Threads of Time
by GM Andy
Summary: In the Middle of a War & unsure of who the real enemy is, one Time Lady is willing to risk the fabric of reality to ensure that the Doctor lives. Only one problem, The wrong Doctor catches her first. 2/9/Rose/Jamie/Romana/Riddic/Jonhs/Fry/crew of Serenity
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This has spoilers for both "All About the Doctor and Jamie" and "Tangled Web". Please read those first. This is not "NEW" persay, actually it follows "all about" chapter 9. Reading this now lets you get a peek into where things with Nine are heading. Will he regenerate? Yes, I suppose eventually I'll catch up with the end of his time as Nine and move on to Ten. All good things must end, in time *winks* I've pulled heavily on the Lungbarrow e-book, so if you get too confused look that up on the BBC website.  
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Doctor Who and the Threads of Time

Part one: St Albans Space Bazaar, Wild Space/Alliance Fringe, Late 'October', 2518.

The Saint Albans Space Bazaar was a long glorified name for a smallish, half-rogue, cobbled together, mismatch of salvaged technology. The station was spaceworthy, however, and that was the important part. A common stop for Sleeper ships, coming in from the Company side, particularly as many preferred to take local transit into Alliance space proper, safer than attempting the Blue Sun Oort cloud while still in Cryo, made this a positive place to do business. On the negative, the station sat on a longer, more expensive route. This ran between Coalsack Three and Blue Sun, as opposed to the Tangiers-Conga-Scorpio-Blue Sun route. The longer route avoided the majority of the mysterious region known as "Nixman's Waste" by the local parlance. Since things like Reavers came from Nixman's Waste on regular intervals, and ships seemed to get lost in there (it was rumored that the _Hunter-Gratzner_ was the latest victim of the region after decades of successfully making the ghost run, rather a shame as the captain had been very well known), cheap wasn't necessarily better.

The majority of travelers that came through the station were, typically, either on Hajj or trying to make a case with the Alliance for a homestead claim. Or they were fleeing the Alliance for more civil and tolerant parts. But the Majority wasn't the all. Some folks came through right regular, choosing to live in the black, instead of making roots in soil. Amnon Duul, the postmaster and sometimes general go-to-fix-it guy had seen all types. He currently held majority ownership in the station (about fifty-three percent) and thus often called the place 'my station'. None of the other titled parties really cared to call him on it.

Both St Albans prime and Coalsack were mining based planets. Minerals, in raw form, were plentiful here. This meant that certain goods, plants, food, refined technology, were worth more out here than they were closer to any one star. The space station gained it's energy in a number of ways, primarily through hydrogen fusion (some claimed it was alien tech), but light was somewhat of a rare thing, and natural sun was impossible. They truly sat in the black.

The latest stopover crowd included some odd people. Then again, when didn't they? From Chrislams from New Mecca to Elementals from Quintessa, and even a merc or two... folks from all walks of life came through here. Amnon knew that the businessmen and women that worked here would try their damnedest to glean what coin they could, some with more success than others. If it could be bought or sold, legal or not, someone here was likely to either have it or be able to get it for a price. As long as he wasn't aware of it, that was. He watched the folks flow past until some of them stopped to drop off post. It always amazed him how many pilgrims managed to collect hoards of trinkets that they needed to mail home. Private networks like his were about the cheapest way to send such things, particularly if one didn't care how quickly something got to where it was heading. In his occupation with work he did not notice one very unusual person that strolled into the main hub of the station, just a bit enough behind the rest of the visitors to not have arrived on the latest docking ship.

She was a bit flustered, but then – Travel by Time Ring often left one feeling a bit out of sorts. The young woman paused, pulled a very advance timepiece, double checked the location, date, and every other part of the timeline that the device could read. Once satisfied that the non-TARDIS time travel had gotten her to the advertised when and where, she carefully looked about, trying to make sure she'd arrived before the person she was here to meet. It wouldn't do if he spotted her first, after all. And... just because she didn't remember coming here before did not mean she'd not run into herself, with as much criss-crossing of this particular region of time and space that she'd engaged in already. Sometimes non-linear experiences of time were quite the bother. It seemed though that she had a window here of a few hours at least where this version of herself was here and not here too... or something. Honestly, the Doctor's version of 'enlightenment' had forever scrambled her brain. And she loved him for it. There was something glorious in having just a touch of madness after all.

Thinking of the Doctor, she paused. Romanadvoratrelundar found that it had been so long since she planned this that she had to actually think about which version of the Doctor she was to encounter. So much had been happening that sometimes she found it difficult to keep her own timelines straight. It was the Stattenheim remote control she needed to get back from him, currently. Although... there might be a problem, if the stubborn man wanted the added twin symbiotic link removed. Knowing this particular version of said Time Lord he would. It meant that she'd need several days to get the ingrown circuit detached and deinstalled from the Central Diaphragm and the Zyton-7 elements. Well, she supposed she owned him that, if nothing else. Far more likely however, he'd be extremely hostile and pushy.

Something shimmered across her awareness, like a pulse across time. Powerful and binding. She swiveled her head to and fro trying to get a direction from the fading embers from it. All she could tell was that it came from someplace here on the station, likely from one of the docked ships. She shielded her mind, tamping down and suppressing all the parts of her active consciousness that she currently didn't need just in case the sensation was a rogue tracker from the War looking for her. It had happened before, after all, and the War was still ongoing as far as she knew. It mattered not that the area was currently at peace, or that had never been directly impacted by any of the fighting. The War had placed both past and future into horrible flux and nothing she knew for certain was bound to stay that way. That was what made her current course of action so risky. Her presence here could alter everything, for good or ill. But then, with the way the War was going she really didn't have much choice.

Besides, the universe would survive, as long as the Doctor did. This much the Sisterhood of Karn, natural seers that they were, had insisted was true. When she'd gone to Karn to consult them about Pythia's Curse they had informed her it had already been defeated, twice. She hadn't understood until she stumbled across Penelope Gate, a human with impossible ties to house Lungbarrow (something else that had been buried, rather literally, in Gallifrey's past). She hadn't been what broke the curse, but rather was the thing that signaled it was lifting.

What broke the curse, twice, was the Doctor. He'd done it once without ever trying to do it, just being placed back into the loom of his house had spread the trait of fertility through the associated houses, all of them old (few of those remained however, and so the impact was just starting to be felt). Redloom had shown it first. Thus begin her long drawn out dealings with the Seers of the Sisterhood. He'd done it a second time, well, was doing it right now, the stubborn git.

And she knew the CIA would cleverly hide the evidence, in his future and her past. She would just learn of it, barely in time to save the Doctor's life and smuggle the infant out, or had done, or might do... if the past didn't shift like quicksand on her. Everything she had done, and would do, was designed to set it up so that the Doctor and his son would find one another, once the War was over. The blocks placed between them (or would be placed), muffling their natural family bond, would only loosen and break once she'd died, and with the way the Sisterhood had foretold of the War's end she had no doubt that she'd not live past it. Saving his Bond with Jamie might not be so easy, though.

She hated having to do things like that. Hurting the Doctor just to make sure he had something after the War was so incredibly painful. If she'd just been able to tell him that his son was alive, safe, and in a place he could reach then it would be so much easier. But she knew that knowledge would cause the Doctor to go straight away to get the child, and she couldn't allow that. Bad enough that he crossed his own timelines to travel with other grandchildren of his when the connecting parent hadn't been born yet. They should have remained part of his post-War existence. She knew no matter how much he promised to stay away the draw of family was too much for him to deny. She had to nearly force Susan to not mention her three sons the last time the Lady Larn had met her grandfather again. Had to tell her about the War, even though she shouldn't have known anything about it yet. Just that he'd even found John and Gillian back in his first life when their connection to him had yet to be even hinted at, much less a product of the unique biology that the Doctor had been blessed (or cursed) with, created so many problems. Frankly, the infuriating Time Lord was a paradox magnet. And she really loved him. She loved him enough to risk everything.

That was why she was here, after all. Risking all of reality, because she had to make sure he lived through the War, because in the aftermath of it he was the only one she trusted with the enormous, unlimited, power that would be concentrated within him. He was the only one, of the entire thousand Time Lord elite, herself included, that she knew without a doubt would not abuse the vast ability entrusted within the Other by Rassilon himself. Romana leaned against the nearest wall as the emotion hit her of how completely _real_ this all was. How vital to the fabric of reality. She'd looked deep into the plans and the visions of Rassilon, deeper than any other President. It had driven her mad for a time, perhaps she was still. But the Doctor, her current lovely, kind, passionate, green-eyed Doctor had pulled her out of the shadows and told her that insight, and a Seer's vision always had a price. And she had already paid it. Now it was up to her to use that knowledge and he _trusted_ her. But would he still if he realized how much she was twisting the knife?

It hurt like her own hearts had been stabbed. She had been tempted, more than once, to just run away. To flee back to E-space. She could go, right now. Abort this entire thing, take herself back to her rooms, run into her TARDIS (the Doctor's other hidden son, ironically), hit the programmed recall switch, and lock herself into the alternate dimension forever. The temptation was always there. The distant but very dulcet flow of her beloved sang into her mind, steadying her, shoring her up for this task. He'd honor her desires to flee, after she did this one final thing. Romana centered herself, gathering up the emotional mess that littered her soul and putting it all back into the little compartments that her organized self had insisted such things belonged in. Of course that was a holdover from before she'd met the Doctor, before she realized how alive she could be, and those strong emotions didn't exactly fit into the old spaces anymore. She blinked back the threatening tears and dug for a kerchief in her pocket. The one that she found reminded her rather strongly of red eroteme shaped handled brollies, straw panama hats, and steel blue eyes. She blinked at the cloth, forced herself to not sob over having gotten him killed, yet again, and blew her nose. Damn it, why did she have _his_ kerchief? A hard, icy, lump of discomfort lodged itself right below her breasts and refused to diminish.

The petite blond glanced around the bit of low wall that she was hiding behind, scanning what amounted to a square of sorts. No sign of him yet, none at all. She frowned at herself, unsure if this was good or bad. She was eager to see the little tramp-like form again, having convinced herself that she quite liked him for all the many good qualities he had. Not to mention that being in his mind had taught her an incredible amount about how to convince people that stuff was their idea when she'd brought some obscure thing up that she needed them to do. Quite handy a skill that. Here the Doctor was, acting as her Mentor and he hadn't even officially met her yet. She grinned at the irony of it.

Someone passed her line of sight, a human male, red tightly curled hair, cropped into a neat almost military cut, tall, lean and rather merc-like in his stance, that just oozed artron energy. So much psionic and temporal power weaved through such a non-psychic being was extremely unusual. It wasn't enough to be dangerous, not to either his personal health nor to crystallize events around him, but it did signal that the individual had been present through a Time Lord regeneration or other such outpouring of raw Vortex energy, like viewing the Heart of a TARDIS. Somewhat like what Jamie McCrimmon seemed to display, really. He'd definitely traveled by TARDIS, making perhaps triad or trips at least within a ship that had a very familiar signature. His entire genetic structure was irradiated with the stuff, his nervous system flooded with it as though through long term exposure. She had a feeling that he believed everyone had started speaking languages he knew, as he could understand most everyone around him much better than he'd done before. He was broadcasting powerfully, too, although not on purpose.

She blinked at the unusual sight, suddenly rather dizzy. One of the Doctor's Companions? Someone from the War? A Gallifreyan warrior under deep cover? Why was this man here? She pulled out her sonic screwdriver and scanned for other signs and clues but came up with nothing. The Station's fusion power supply rather limited her scan, for one, and the place had plentiful magnetic and lead plated shielding too. If there were others with such strong readings of Artron energy besides herself and this strange fellow, she couldn't detect them.

Like most human built places this one was mismatched from various different groups with various different goals, all long forgotten in the quest for profit. What had started out as a planned, reasonable, ordered, floating city in space had become little more that a stopover point. The proverbial dusty crossroads of the distant outback. Somewhere along the lines the plans had been scrapped and the additions became whatever was at hand, salvaged, bought, bartered, or maybe even stolen. There was a sense of 'frontier law' about the place, one that relied on a network of human honesty, human pulling together, and willful overlooking of anything imposed by outside powers that smacked of going against common sense.

That was one of the reasons she kept coming back here, actually. It represented the qualities that the Doctor loved the most about Humanity and reminded her of him so strongly that she was nearly as much in love with this place as she'd been with the actual person. She hoped by bringing the younger Doctor here, in his second form, that he'd understand why she was doing this, that perhaps he'd make different choices, use the favor he'd gained from her in a different way, that maybe he'd call her for help when the time came instead of calling out in general and running into the CIA at all. Time was in flux. Even the Doctor could make different choices now. But would he?

When she'd found that she could contact him before he'd crystallized his pregnancy into stasis she'd jumped at the chance, knowing that it was not legal and rather liable to get her into great trouble if she was caught, but also able to alter his course if Jamie forced things and demanded the truth. And she'd set up a deal with the TARDIS to call upon the proper threads of the Doctor's future to help it along, knowing that the poor girl was hurting so badly and was so confused at the continued spurning she was receiving from her pilot that she'd do anything that might offer her some crumb of relief and mental contact with him.

Romana put this thought aside, aware that the shift change from one period of activity to another had happened only a short time ago, marking this as early evening. Not that it mattered, as the station was open all hours, every day. The tempo of life here beat steady, varying only in flavor but never in spice or variety. If one knew where to look one could find any food or drink no matter what the official time of day. One could engage in any activity here that one fancied, from freak shows to sensuous pleasure, from drug trips to religious services, anything and everything as long as one possessed the credits, UD's, plats, or cunning to pull it off.

The workers, who were the only imperishable residents of the Bazaar, lived in more or less permanently attached ships of one kind or another. That most of them had brought said crafts with them and traded various parts in order to get the privilege to stay (purchasing berth, in effect), made them more independent contractors than actual employees. Often they jointly owned whichever business or enterprise they were engaged in, or they leased space to provide a somewhat needed service of some kind or another. That the activity counting as employment might be little more than selling themselves on an hourly basis (for sex, therapy, entertainment, or all of the above), charging someone for access to a shower, bartering goods, or swindling folks out of their cash was just par for the course.

Just about every nook and cranny had been converted to services, shops, entertainment, and other public places. Some of the services actually happened right out in the open. Like the woman selling neon blue drinks in champagne flutes made of sugar for a two UD's a glass. She remembered how much of a mess those chemical cocktails could wrought if one was unfamiliar with the effects. More than alcohol, less then a proper knockout drug, but dangerous all the same. She'd tried one, out of curiosity, and ended up doing the most inappropriate things with a rather well endowed mahogany skinned human that was neither female nor male, but rather a bit of both. She hadn't asked if it was natural or surgical, that biological state. She'd actually tried to forget the entire thing. In fact the one thing she remembered clearly was the heat of it. And the mess.

Considering that the Doctor had taken humans for his lovers she'd tried to pass the entire event off as, um, – scientific research. She was still unsure what the attraction was, even though the Doctor had tried to explain to her before they parted that it wasn't just a physical thing. How could non-psychic races like humanity hold such a strong grip on a Time Lord? And yet... the Doctor was hardly alone in his fascination. Andred Redred had proved that, as had the Doctor's 'father' from Lungbarrow. And an untold number of Galliferyan soldiers... She'd ended up nearly pleading with him to come over and explain it again, physically, with as much graphic detail as possible. The dear fellow had taken one look at her on arrival, told her what she'd gotten into with an amused grin, and led her into her sleeping chambers. Even though he was in a different body, one that usually didn't remind her of the broad smiles and wild curls of the one she'd met him in first, sometimes the green-eyed version could indeed explain things with the same powerful intensity. Although the mental-physical sharing they occasionally dared to risk was always a bit strange, seeing as she was bonded to a TARDIS that was, in effect, his son. And she really shouldn't be thinking of such things now.

She looked about the various shop fronts and at the thick crowd, thankful that a sleeper ship had just arrived before her filled with travelers decked out in all manner of styles. There were Arabic desert robes, nearly American Western looking garb, tee-shirts and cargo pants, Asian styled clothing of varied types, including Indian, Japanese, and islander inspired styles. There were even a few almost medieval type gowns, although the futuristic neon makeup rather shocked home that this was nowhere near that time period. It was, all in all a perfect location to have this meeting. The swap of technology would be seen as nothing more than a business transaction among two humans, or possibly two Elementals.

She was rather more familiar with this era then was totally safe, seeing as she knew quite a bit about this region, and it's various cultures, for one very good reason. A human woman by the name of Penelope Gate, a redheaded, gray-eyed, woman with singularly bright intelligence would be born in this region of space, in about twenty-five hundred years or so, and would play a extraordinarily spectacular role in the fate of the universe. Romana had taken to tracking this woman's ancestry ever since first running across mention of her. It was nearly an obsession, and that had led her to protecting and saving people that lived here the way the Doctor often times seemed to go about saving the planet Earth. Then again... He had every reason to.

She glanced down at her clothing. The tan leather gloves, matched to her riding jacket, she had a very good reason for. She must not leave traces here. However, looking at the humans around her she felt, for once in her life, ridiculously under-dressed. She could have stepped out in full ceremonial regalia and not raised a single eyebrow with how exotically the locals here were garbed. No one kept their fingers covered here and the full gloves were drawing attention to her. No one here wore gloves. Hats, yes. Gloves no. At least not gloves that actually covered the fingers. Then again... there were a class of dangerous individuals that typically under-dressed in these parts. And she had a weapon of sorts on her, too. One that the locals would fear on sight even of the item was not shaped like a gun. That was another reason to keep her hands exposed, she realized suddenly. Blue Sun employed assassins that kept them covered. She couldn't afford to be mistaken for one of the Liquidators and cause a mass panic. The shop keepers here would shoot first and then vaporize the body to hide the evidence. That would be impossible to regenerate from.

And she'd hate to get blood on her coat. This had always been a favorite outfit of hers, or a variation of it at least. Romana frowned at the covering on her hands. Bound to raise questions, those. She carefully slipped them off and tucked them into a pocket, hoping that she'd not aroused suspicion by wearing them in the first place. The woman with the drink tray glanced from her face to her hands and tucked something back into a pocket in her skirts. Romana gave her a smile and held up both hands, wiggling her fingers just to hone the point that she was not a threat. The woman turned away, accepting some plats for a couple of her think syrupy drinks from a large top-knotted but shaved fellow and the wispy airy Elemental gent next to him.

The Time Lady put her head against the low wall in relief. That was close. How stupid. She should put that into her wardrobe rules: No gloves, unless fingerless, for any where and any when within a hundred light years and a century of Alliance space. Her distant TARDIS, through their very unusual bond, laughed at her. He'd tried to tell her. She'd not listened. Now he was amused at her expense. She groaned at his ribbing, promising to listen to him next time if he'd just shut up. He sent her feelings of love and went comfortably quiet, his normal light hum in the back of her mind. _Rassilon_! He could could be as bad as his father sometimes. He shot her a feeling of affront. She revised her estimate, _worse then_? He relented and admitted that he got his stubborn teasing traits from the Doctor true enough, but she loved him back anyhow. She smirked at that. How true. She would never trade him for another, not as long as they both lived.

She wasn't sure why she picked this where and this when, all those years ago. She'd not even known about Ms Gate then, honestly. It seemed like a neutral enough location, away from earth but with lots of humans with no interest in asking too many questions or looking too closely at some stranger in their midst. It was unaffected by War, even those that took place nearby. It was too small for most invaders to bother with, and was likely to be overlooked in most cases unless rebels took to using the place. She supposed that the fact that the station was stable as far as both time and location went was a major reason for picking it, rather at random, to use for this purpose.

Then the War had crept up on them. She wasn't even sure she'd be able to slip away and actually meet the Doctor here, frankly. It wasn't one of the allowed things, for the President to just go swanning off to wild places filled with lesser beings. Much less so in the middle of War. Then again, most of those that advised her had never set foot out of the capital, much less off Gallifrey, and she really didn't think much about their rules. She would go where she needed to go, and where the Doctor was concerned she'd not trust anyone else with the mission. So somehow she'd managed to slip away from whatever massive debate was raging on the floor of the government halls today, and here she was, at the appointed place and appointed time waiting for a Doctor that had no choice but to come to this time and space, because she'd programed his TARDIS to bring him to here.

For a brief moment she wondered how angered the little dark haired version of the Doctor was going to be with her when he arrived. She had only met him twice before she'd set this up, once when he was working for the CIA and once before that. He was a very complex man, in truth. Even more so than his profile ever indicated. He might brush this entire thing off or he might give her a piece of his mind in such a way to scare her off. This particular form might not be the most powerful version she'd met, nor the most imposing, but he was the most unpredictable.

She took a deep breath and fingered the Time Ring she used to get here suddenly feeling anxious. The heavy band of metal was safer than a TARDIS with how the enemy had been tracking their agents as of late, although she wasn't fully sure she trusted this inanimate and unintelligent technology. Her preference would always be for TARDIS travel, no matter what the risks. A Time Ring could easily be disrupted and end her up in a very bad situation. But much of the traffic onto and away from Gallifrey had been restricted. She'd had little choice in the matter.

The problem was, she suddenly had no idea if she was in the right to be here, and that was always bothersome. Mucking about in Time had such strange outcomes sometimes. She nibbled on a fingernail and glanced about the rather hobbled together space station. With a major battle of the War having been fought here just a short time ago, there really was little danger that she'd be noticed by either side. That didn't change the fact that she shouldn't be here, considering that right now she was also someplace else within enough proximity to be accused of crossing her own timeline. Bugger it. If the CIA decided to look for her now she'd be rather caught red-handed. Well, the Doctor was worth the risk. He was. She'd vowed that he'd be the one. She needed to do this.

She pulled her nail from her teeth, frowned at the damage she'd done to it, and stuffed her hand into her coat pocket. Shouldn't the Doctor be here by now? Her eyes scanned again, picking up the telltale signature of time travelers spread out through the crowd. A dark headed girl and a blond woman both in sleeveless fluttery tops trying to eat massive bowls of ice cream suspended from sticks, laughing. A dark headed young man paying a credit to go into the amusements booth. A boy of about twelve with golden copper hair and a bright smile... Then she heard the faint sound of the Doctor's TARDIS, but it seemed to be so far away, as though through a tunnel. Time was shifting on her, future and past both in flux. Had she made a fatal mistake?


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I'm using parts of an obscure Riddic special "Into Pitch Black" for the location that Riddick is being held at. The space station in part one comes from Firefly episode "The Message", although this is NOT that episode being played out here- actually this is the second time Serenity has been to the station in this cycle._ I've chosen to place the Second/Six Doctor crossover in place of Two being younger_ (Yea, Yea, I know- older actor playing the part, but it works for me for this to be pre-capture, and non-CIA fiddling). Please note- this chapter is entirely smut... Jamie/Two/Tardis smut, surely- but smut all the same. It's still vital to the story however... *smirks*_

_Thanks to my reviewer from chapter 1_

Doctor Who and the Threads of Time  
Part Two: The Second Doctor's TARDIS, post "The Two Doctors"

He was just inside the door, trembling like he'd run a mile, all his muscles firing off in skittering jolts of static. Hot and cold waves of sensation, making him aware of every inch of himself. Very aware that they were alone, but not. The piper could feel the TARDIS, her pain and confusion, under the sense of welcome and greeting. She was like an abused dog, loyal and faithful and loving, but so beat back that she cowered and tried to hide her whimpers. The contrast to the older version which was headstrong and motherly was remarkable. Jamie wanted to heal that damaged relationship between Thete and his ship but he had no idea how to go about it. And there was something inside him demanding intense physical contact, right _now_.

The Scotsman swallowed, watched his Thete at the controls, and struggled with an odd mixture of overwhelming need and absolute horror at his memories of how he acted the last time he felt this way. The combination more or less froze him at the door, keeping him from acting one way or the other. He felt like he had a raging beast that he could not control pounding against his ribs, wanting out. It was just overwhelming. He'd been told not to give in to this here, but damn it all, he didn't think he could make it much longer. They should have stayed at that house and gone into one of the bedrooms and taken care of this first. Surely Thete felt this too. What had made him flee so recklessly into the Vortex when they had a perfectly safe place to deal with this were they were? Was it his older self that made him run?

Part of him sort of wanted to just give in to whatever this feeling, urge, compulsion was and do what it needed, if he could just keep enough control of himself to not hurt the other man. That was his fear, honestly. He knew that the line between what they had, the intense desire to be as close as possible, and what he'd done, forcing Thete and dominating him in such a way that it hurt him, was so very thin. He didn't deserve all the sweet times and stolen nights that Thete had given him after. But they'd been apart for almost two weeks. He'd thought the other man dead, and his mind had cracked under the strain. Then that foul creature had threatened to take Thete as her consort, her lover... and Thete was _HIS_, damn it all. If they could just proclaim it, make it known, then things might be easier. Or not. But he guessed that folks would be less inclined to separate them if their connection was a bit more official.

It was thoughts like those that were going to get him in massive trouble here. He needed Thete, like he needed air to breathe or food to eat. His life would not be worth living if they were pulled apart. Having met an older version of the Doctor that he couldn't feel was frightening. Five hundred years they'd been apart, if the fellow had told him the truth, and he'd managed to survive without – Did the Doctor not need him as much as he needed the Doctor? Was this horrible driving, consuming, desire to possess and claim one sided? Had his actions driven the Doctor away from him?

Or maybe he needed to tell the man how he felt, what he meant. He hadn't done before. Was that what Peri's Doctor meant about telling His Doctor how he felt and taking control of the situation? Was that what was needed when the order was given to demand no secrets? Did it go beyond just their sharing personal things? Did they need to express this shared secret with the Doctor's ship? Or did he just need to make sure that the little man knew how he felt? Maybe he needed to reassure Thete that his cousins taunting him, calling him 'wormhole' while poking at his body and noticing he was different, made no alterations in _their_ feelings. God, what awful memories... No wonder Thete acted like he did, hording memories and remembered bits of happiness like a greedy man horded gold. But they could, together, wipe all those bad times away and make new good ones, if they tried.

The smaller dark haired man finally looked away from the controls, his face creased in a frown as he jerked his resting hand away from his belly as though he'd caught it on fire. He needed to stay aware of what he was doing and rubbing a baby bump that didn't exist yet was not something he should do. Ever. So much had gone wrong there, in Seville. He never should have met himself. He shouldn't be remembering this, but somehow he knew that the condition he was in wouldn't let him forget, drugs or no. He shouldn't be feeling like Jamie was consuming him alive with his eyes. And he shouldn't be wanting it either. But he was. His hearts were thudding in his chest and his groin was tingling and swelling. He could almost feel the pheromones slipping out of skin, filling the room, sending out the chemical siren song that would drive the human lad out of his mind. They shouldn't do this here. He wasn't sure they'd make it to the zero room. Suddenly he wasn't sure he cared.

There were two things he could do. He could flee the room knowing that the bond would call Jamie to him (likely in a maddened violent state) or he could go to the lad and let him stake his claim and possibly exert enough control to keep it from becoming nightmare inducing. Most of his futures showed him running from the room and making it to the Zero Room... And darkness in the distance. He'd been consistently going about things to push the darkness back as far as he could, but what existed on the other side of it? Was it possible that he'd be able to change the future and keep Jamie with him? Was that worth the risks? His older self had thought so. He did trust himself, didn't he? The strong threads of his future were shimmering and shifting through the darkness and he had the choice here. Known path of survival or unknown one that had not been tried before. He might not be able to alter what stood in store for is eventual future, but he could take control of some aspects of it, and he could make it so that his people wouldn't dare pull Jamie from him. They'd have to make a stop on Karn, and he'd have to admit to his condition, seeking the blessing of the Sisterhood. He'd have to weave a deeper bond with both Jamie and Verity, forcing his people to accept the Scot as his Tyro. That could lead to them all being banished for his daring, but the Time Lords wouldn't separate them, not if they wore the mark of the Sisterhood.

The Doctor took in the control room, scanning it over, remembering how he and his ship used to soar over the Vortex, together in bliss. He shivered from the intense gaze focused on him and the strong broadcast of animal need that Jamie was sending to him through their Bond. They needed help, desperately. And there was only one way they were going to get it. He needed to allow Verity back into his mind, and into Jamie's, and into their bond. He'd started changing Jamie when he healed him after the Androgum Shockeye's attack. He could see Time diverging, creating alternate realities, changing his course and running parallel to it. He closed his eyes and pondered the situation, thinking it through and realizing one very important thing that his older self had given him, he would survive this condition to regenerate eventually. He'd have this child either willingly or ripped from him. It was then his choice, and he needed to somehow protect both his unborn and his bonded.

He needed to start by letting Jamie see the possible futures, to help him chose which course the should take, if indeed they were to walk those paths together. This meant telling the lad the truth, and using that favor with 'Fred' to help further change the piper's physical state. Would she agree? He'd have to make it so that she couldn't refuse. Suddenly he could see a glimpse of his futures, one that included a network of people, including an altered Jamie. A Jamie that was more than human. He looked at the lad. His healing had started mutating the piper, exposing him to Time itself. It would eventually kill him, the Doctor could see that now, unless – he could demand that 'Fred' fix it. Because she could fix Jamie, alter and stabilize his genes. But at what cost?

Jamie noticed that the gray-blue eyes danced about the room, seeing everything but him at first. When they did lock on, the creature snarling against his mind surged to the forefront. The piper whimpered as he struggled with it, unwilling to let it out and unable to tame it. Why didn't Thete just let him have this? What could his people actually do? He belonged to Thete, forever. Nothing could ever change that. He believed the absolute truth of it even if he had not felt Peri's Doctor. There must be a reasonable explanation for it. He focused on the floor and tried to get his body to listen to his mind that was insisting they couldn't do this here. But even his mind was beginning to wonder why. He'd felt how protective and how loving the TARDIS became as she got older. He'd felt her greet him as though she knew something sad would happen that hadn't needed to happen. He thought perhaps including her was the answer they needed, after all. She trusted him, maybe he needed to force Thete to trust her.

The Doctor crossed the room in a few short strides, "Jamie?" Not only was the lad blocking him at the moment but his mind had been so focused on the echoing words chiding him to tell the piper his secret that he'd not noticed the yanking sensation coming from the bond. He was somewhat fearful that it was threatening Jamie's sanity again. He wasn't sure if he could tolerate more abuse, right now, with everything his body had been through the last two weeks. His Temporal freeze had been less than total on stopping the development because he'd diverted it to healing himself. The sensation of his being sick, the nausea, had been from more than just the drugs. And then he'd healed Jamie, taking on the damage himself and using even more power to heal it.

The babe was a good trimester grown now. He had to make a choice, to freeze it totally (and risk death but keep it hidden) or let it develop and tell Jamie what impossible thing they had created. He was honestly starting to think that delaying the darkness was stupid. Letting himself make choices out of fear was stupid. His older self had told him as much, and he took away that lesson if nothing else. Why was it OK to risk his life for the Universe but not accept what he was because it should be impossible?

He made up his mind, he'd offer Jamie the choice, the chance, and then invite Verity into it, because he couldn't do this alone if he wanted to survive it. And then... he'd find some way to pull off a miracle, to protect those he cared about through the looming darkness, one moment at a time. The Doctor reached for his bonded, extending his hand. He stopped himself before he touched the Scot, knowing that if he did there would be no way to stop. "Can you hang on, my boy?"

Something inside Jamie snapped at the sound of the Doctor's voice and the smell of him. Having made up his mind to take this out of the other man's hands already Jamie instantly decided to not fight it anymore. He needed this. He needed Thete to know he needed it. He needed the TARDIS to know. He needed the Universe to know. Damn the Doctor's people. He was going to have his Thete, now. They'd deal with the consequences after.

Too late the Time Lord realized that Jamie's condition was less a matter of hanging on and more a matter of desperate animal need. Something the Doctor could well understand now, having had his appetite more than stoked rather recently. The piper made a graceful twist, almost in slow motion, and launched at him with a speed that was enhanced by the filtered vortex energy still flowing through his blood. The smaller dark-haired man took half a step back and managed to twist enough to protect his middle as he was knocked to the floor. He hit on his hip and shoulder, having some of the wind knocked out of him, although the TARIDS had seen the topple and altered the landing area just enough to avoid serious injury. The Doctor blinked, struggling to figure out what was going on, as Jamie's mind flooded his with the raw emotions and desires fueled by their separation, the overheard threats, his fear and confusion over meeting an older Doctor and TARDIS with a much changed relationship, and his need to reestablish their strained link. The sound of cloth ripping was rather enough to send the smaller man's mind reeling away from the reality of the situation.

Jamie did not think. He felt the other man's physical closeness and his own desire. That was enough to make him lunge for the Doctor, tackling him to the floor. He got his hands into the pale blue shirt, noticing that the bow tie was already loosened. The scent of honey and cloves filled his nose. This was his. His. Lover, Spouse, Mate, Bonded... his. The English words of the concept didn't quite have the impact he needed. But the Gàidhlig word would. Did. He'd never ever called anyone by it before. And he'd never call anyone not connected to the Doctor by it ever again. "Mo Cèile," the growl was almost too deep in his throat to make much sense of, but he'd managed to say it. His. The Doctor was his forever. But why did the little man wear so many clothes? He tugged, pulling the fabric away, getting it open, exposing skin and touching. Driven to it, unaware of anything else but that cool skin and the scent in his nose and the timbre of the voice in his ears.

The Time Lord blinked as the hot fingers found his skin, grabbing, kneading, pushing psychic pulses into his being that sparked across his awareness like firecrackers. "Don't do this, Jamie..." he tried to get a grip on the clawing hands that were shredding his clothing, leaving him with scratches and marks from his nails. His shirt was ruined, ripped and torn, buttons scattered across the floor, the undershirt tattered exposing more of him than he's currently comfortable with. The lad did not rip his coat although he was currently strong enough to do so. He needed to assert some control here before Jamie drove him to not caring. The piper's mouth crashed down on his, rather cutting off his protests. The sparks from the touch fired through him, and he responded with a gasp. The lad wasted no time, intensifying the osculation, licking and stroking the inside of his mouth with a heated organ that created just as many sparkles across his soul as his hands were doing on his body. '_Jamie! You're going to hurt me, if you don't get a grip on yourself!_' He couldn't breathe, or rather he forgot to for a moment, as Jamie ravaged his mouth with his tongue, much as he could sense the lad wanted to do with the proper parts of their bodies. The mental scold seemed to flow right past the piper, consumed as he was with the bond trying to force them into easing the strain.

He could see in graphic detail what Jamie wanted, or rather what the bond between them needed, and what the lad feared he would do to get it. The last thing he'd wanted was for the piper to remember that incident inside the Zero Room, but in the course of healing him the mental blocks had fallen. Now he saw that Jamie was horrified by his actions and never wanted to do such a thing again. His intention in blocking those memories had not been to scare him, but to prevent him from associating release of the strain on the bond with violence. He was rapidly spiraling down to that level again, and fighting it with every fiber of his being.

The hot fingers worked the Doctor's trousers open even though he was trying to remain somewhat curled and protect himself from the overly rough touches. He could feel his TARDIS expressing growing alarm, too. He sent her as much of a calming sensation as he could manage, aware that this is far beyond anything he and Jamie have let slip around her before. It's been nearly two weeks since the Bond has been indulged, and the deep plunge Jamie made into it and the panicked healing he risked to save him have not even made a ripple on the surface of their passion. If anything Jamie's still experiencing enhanced abilities because of it, making him stronger, faster, more acute and deeply cognizant. The Scot straddled his legs and made him buck involuntarily, using the movement to expose him, sliding the trousers and pants down to his ankles nearly. He shivered at the feel of the hot flesh against his own and the contrasting cooler air.

Jamie shifted enough to settle the kilt more over him, to cover and increase skin to skin contact. He tried to twist again, reflectively attempting to protect or hide his stomach. The piper's hands and body forced him back more flat with persistence. He was tingling all over, unable to stop his own reactions, flushing deep russet now and releasing even more scent. He'd never been dominant over Jamie. Not even the last time when he let the boy take him in the Zero Room. But he must think of other things now, and Jamie was the one person that could hurt him enough to kill him at the moment. He started actively trying to catch the Scotsman's roving hands, and for a few seconds they seemed to be fighting each other, only once he managed to catch Jamie's wrists the lad seemed perfectly happy to hold his hands after the Doctor entwined their fingers.

He's half aroused, his genitalia definitely becoming more engorged, darkening with his blood, moistened and hard. It would take on a human penis shape, eventually, although currently it was still more inside his body than exposed. Not that it mattered, really. Most times Jamie topped, and he let him have that. This time the Bond was not being picky, and Jamie was sitting just below his groin, pinning his legs together. The branding heat of the lad's own masculinity rubbed over his slick cold hardness prompting both of them to hiss from the contrasting sensations. Jamie's sound became a growl as he moved in and set his teeth to the bundle of nerves along the Doctor's exposed left collarbone. Fireworks of nerve impulses and psychic lava-like heat wash over him. He cannot shatter, but he can writhe with the intensity of the sensation that floods him. Jamie knew this, using his body's reactions against him. He shifted his pinning position, driving a wool covered knee between the other man's legs. The Scot knew where to put pressure, where to grind into the sensitive areas of the Doctor's groin in order to work him into a state of full arousal. He arched and bucked not sure if he wanted the lad off him or if he wanted more contact. Cool thick moisture welled up from the bite before he was able close the blood flow off.

The piper tasted the skin in his mouth, tasted the blood from breaking it, and managed to pull back, telling himself that he's marked Thete, and that's enough. But on some level it's not. He can tell from the cool oily slick sensation and bone-like hardness against his parts and his thighs, that the other man is fully aroused now, even if he's not completely mentally open. He needed to tell him how he feels, to reassure him that he's not ever going to hurt him again like he'd done that one time. He'd crossed the line then, and his anger did not excuse his behavior in the least. But would the Doctor, alien as he was, understand the difference between then and now? Could he see and feel that he'd not lost control, in spite of the bite? The smaller man shivered under him, shuttering against him. Alarmed by the display Jamie began whispering, "Tha gaol agam ort," over and over, like a mantra or an apology or a reminder... He did not stop the tears that leaked from his eyes and splattered against the cold skin like drops of warm salty rain. The shaking slows as he kisses his way up the cool honeyed throat. The Doctor caught his lips with his own as he moved near them, fiercely possessive. Jamie felt the other man then kissing him as he moved to the Doctor's ear, dropping cool pats of velvet on his feverish neck and shoulder, some on his shirt and some under it.

"Mo Cèile," Jamie hissed again, this time into his ear. The Doctor paused a moment then nuzzled the piper's shirt collar open. His poor TARDIS was not translating the words, more likely because of her shock at the events happening at the moment. The piper's hands squeezed his own, "Sgìth à dol am falach, Thete." He narrowed his eyes, his hearts beating fast. The bite was a signal. He licked the spot on Jamie's throat that was sensitive and then began applying strong suction as he pondered the fact that Jamie switched to Gàidhlig over English. He supposed the declarations meant more in his native language than they would in the language of his people's oppressors. He unfortunately was not that familiar with Gàidhlig. He was pretty sure that Jamie was claiming him, telling him he loved him, and maybe saying he wasn't going to hide anymore. But he'd have to look it up to be sure.

A hot moist puff of air rolled over his ear followed by Jamie's tongue, lips and teeth. This caused a very vocal reaction that the Doctor tried to suppress, in vain. The groan wrenched its way from his throat sounding rather foreign. Jamie let out his own gasp from the hickey about the same time then moved straight back in, licking and kissing any and every part of Thete in reach. "Mo gràdh, tha gaol agam ort," the Time Lord felt the words against his throat more than he heard them. After a moment Jamie gave up speech and moved into mental communication, '_Mas toigh leibh mise__... If you love me, Thete... You'll give me this, Mo Cèile_.'

The piper moved to cover him, and he automatically tried to prevent it, "It's not a matter of my stopping you..." The old spike of fear about breaking this law filled him again, "Jamie, we can't do this here." Really though the only thing preventing it is the fact that he's got the piper's fingers tangled with his own, keeping him from ripping more of his clothing. He knows though that it's already too late. The TARDIS was well aware of two major things, one he was not denying Jamie's claim on him, and two he was not fighting this near anywhere as much as he would have if it were truly unwanted, but rather responding back as though its a natural thing. And in all the ways that count, it was. They've been doing this for years, just not in front of his ship. And certainly not inside her, but for the one time in the Zero Room.

"Seadh, mo Cèile, sinn fhèin can. Dinna mi innis you to trust her? Còir i fhèin." The lad pulled back to look at him, "She already knows, understands." He turned to the bite wound, soothing it with his tongue, sending waves through Thete that eventually would break down the most staunch resistance. He felt then something shift inside the Doctor's mind, some thread of connections and energy, and he was filled with a faint song. TARDIS song. He pulled back to study the dark haired Time Lord again, seeing him shimmer with golden sparkles, "Brèagha -" The breathless sound echoed in his head with a sense of splendor and awe.

Now he'd let Jamie hear the faint echoes of Verity whispering into his soul, and he could feel her wondering what he was up to. She might not like this. But he'd offer and let her see and she'd make her choice. The piper's hazel eyes were slightly out of focus as he tracked things beyond normal human sight. Like he did with most things, Jamie just accepted it as another wonder of his life with the Doctor. Well, it was going to get that much more intense. He lowered his mental shields to his ship, very slowly. The energy around him jumped in magnitude, as he loosened his hold on his own considerable mental power. This was what he was, totally. The only shields he kept up were those around Jamie's mind for the moment, blocking the TARDIS from feeling the lad until she had taken his silent invitation.

Verity was curious. This was like a moth to a flame, she'd not had his mind so open since they'd first met. He'd been considerably weaker then, although more than able to form the proper bonds with her. But this... She'd made him like this, appealing to the Validium in his blood as he regenerated in an effort to counteract the wasting sickness he'd suffered from. His mental power existed to fill a void within her own being. She would not need six operators if he accepted her. Was that what he was offering her now? She drifted closer. His mental call was like a siren's song to her. If she touched it the connection forged would be forever. And she wanted it, really she did. The one thing that confused her was Jamie. Why would the Doctor hold the human here, both physically and mentally? What did it mean? Would Jamie be able to hear her? She carefully enfolded the pair in her own mental embrace, detecting now the shields that her pilot placed around his human companion. Both of them were highly tense, in an unusual state of mental and chemical activity. She could sense the three hearts thudding in a rhythm that seemed to her to compliment her own song perfectly.

She knew then that this was real. He was offering himself to her on a deeper level than she ever imagined was possible. Like a union of opposites, the energy release would have repercussions across time and space, unless it was grounded. Did he think Jamie was that earthing force? The final part of their triad? It must be. If he were wrong all three of them would be driven mad. She allowed herself to flow into him, filling him, forming within his mind a strong multi-threaded connection. A bond of agelessness. Her aether to his void, forming a violent frothy overabundance within his aura, making him more powerful than he ever was alone.

Neither had realized the potential there. And both could see how it would shape his choices now. He needed a network of triads around him, both extended and close, family and lovers, friends and students. They need not be the same species, but they did need to fall into a narrow range of complimentary elements. Of the center there needed to be two double triads minus one. Beyond that there could be any number. Of these triads he could function as a linking element, or they could hook to another. A web of souls, near and far, that would serve to assist him where needed.

Jamie squeezed the hands holding his as he watched the inky speckled aura around Thete change. He felt the TARDIS right there, almost as though her hands (if she'd had any) were also entwined with his. The sparks dancing over his arms and down his body were more intense than anything he'd felt before. Something convinced the Doctor and the TARDIS to join with one another, right there in front of him. Thete sent him a warning, and a question, did he want to feel this? Would he like to be part of it? Did he want to share? The piper leaned in and kissed the small man for everything he was worth.

The piper knew the hand holding was to control him, to force him to slow down and think about how he might hurt Thete. He didn't want to cause damage, but he knew too that he couldn't control the link and the demands it made. The Time Lord could lock him out more effectively than was often necessary. Jamie supposed after he'd attacked the smaller cool skinned fellow that he deserved to be locked out on occasion. He didn't want to ever do such a thing again. He did not want his Thete to be frightened of him or scared of this intense driving need. He knew they needed help. So if this joining would help them, then he was all for it. He loved the Doctor's ship. It was home to him, more so than any place or time could be. Although he had been rough, hurting to hurt was not what he had in mind.

His hands came untangled, and cool fingers brushed over his face. The touch was light and caressing. Then it settled onto his temples, '_Don't be scared, Jamie. She won't hurt you. I'm going to lower the blocks and shields I've placed in your mind now. She promises to not shout, OK_?' Behind the thoughts he caught a giggle, almost as though the ship was high on the power being released. For all he knew she was. He took a shaky breath and curled his hands into the Doctor's rumpled coat. He wants to strip his cèile nude and fuck him into the floor. He knew he may get the chance yet, but he must control himself for a while longer first.

Verity waited for her pilot to show her what he'd promised to reveal. He'd said he had a good reason to fear, a valid one for his secrecy. She wanted to believe him. The outer shields slowly lowered and the crackling energy arced through the control room. She'd never felt anything like it before. Quite without meaning to she lost track of herself, her location, what she was doing and why... Being in the Vortex meant it wasn't dangerous for her to do such things, as all it did was delay arrival for a bit. But no wonder the Doctor hid this...

Jamie too was lost. Soaring through a landscape that had no description, boundless, timeless, bodiless... He was with them, apart but joined. He wasn't sure where one began or the other ended, and it didn't matter. He was in bliss. Slowly his perception began to include his physical body again, which still needed and wanted physical release. He felt cool fingers and lips on his skin, careful hands divesting him of his clothes, the erotic sensation of breezes and shifting air currents that he knew was Verity touching him too.

He worked the coat off of Thete, trailing his fingers over the cool skin, feeling the skittering sparks as they soaked into their joint awareness. He was kneeling, his legs apart, his hands braced on the Doctor's bare shoulders when the first more solid phantom touch brushed across his spine. The golden embers were fizzy, like feeling a cat's purr. His spine always seemed so sensitive when he was in this state of arousal. He arched, exposing his throat. The rest of the wool slid off him, pooling on Thete's legs. The loose lacy shirt tickled his skin, as he realized he was still on him, although open. Of course, Verity could reach him even while he was clothed, if she wanted. He wiggled his toes against the floor, listening to her purr in his mind.

'_Togair, mo Cèile, feum. Y__ha gaol agam ort,_' He sent the words out to them both, using them to center himself, to hold onto his humanity within the maelstrom of his passion. What Thete and Verity sent back was more than words, more than feeling, the pure deep thoughts of their native languages echoing through the triplicate bond like shimmering waves, arrant concepts without translation that told him his feelings were returned, the possession was joint, their connection total.

For once none of them care who was inside who, or which of them controlled and dominated the situation. They cared not who lead and who followed. All that consumed them was their being with each other totally, as deeply as possible for as long as they are able. And in the haze of the entire thing beat a fourth heart...


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: A bit out of touch with doing this author note business :P Please note, this follows and builds on ALL my other stories in my who-verse. You will need to read those first, and "All About the Doctor and Jamie" actually does have a place in it. Someone stated that they did not like that the Doctor was pining for an "ex". Actually he's not- you see, it'll all make sense here, soon.  
Lets see here_, _this chapter is a but of a jump for Nine, and I swear to you there is story to line these up. Isn't there always? Romana's being caught here and her little push on the Doctor back in his second form are starting to filter in, meaning that what the Doctor remembers isn't always as much of a singular thread as he might like. This MIGHT be post BDM- which means that the Doctor's meddling caused two more folks who would have died to live. Might be. We'll see when we get there. OtherMe - thank you for the review. The impact of that premature bonding will be _very_ far reaching..._

Doctor Who and the Threads of Time

Part three: Serenity, Docking at St Albans Space Bazaar, Wild Space/Alliance Fringe, Late 'October', 2518.

This was the second time this cycle that Malcolm Reynolds had directed his pilot to bring them here. The first time had been a standard stop, picking up and dropping off mail. This time was a bit of a surprise, meaning they hadn't planned on it and likely they wouldn't make back to the Core anytime soon with as far out in the black as they were now. Reavers would be moving between Saint Albans and Blue Sun if the pattern held from years past. The Captain contended that it didn't matter, they'd sit tight here or trust Jon and venture closer to Company space if they needed. But Serenity was slow, and Wash knew that if Rychengoll pirates took a shine to it they'd be wishing they'd risked the Reavers instead.

He wished they had Rich with them still. Then again, so did Jon. He felt for the man, really he did. This entire thing must be incredibly difficult for him, seeing as he was going to go into labor at any time and his husband was missing. The tall pale fellow had stopped trying to hide his condition after he'd nearly killed Jayne three months back after his contact, William Johns, had insisted that he could find out where "Riddick" was being held, even if the records were fifty-seven years old. Jayne had invited it, alluding that the man was getting soft (Cobb never was too bright after all, thinking that the weight gain was nothing more than fat) after his husband 'ran off'. Hell, the elder Doctor Smyth surprised everyone by not flushing the gun-for-hire out the airlock. Since then, Jayne had displayed a healthy dose of fear in Jon, as much as he'd done around Rich or Mal, and was holding good to watching his tongue.

Wash checked for berth clearance, locating an empty airlock in the temporary docking zone, and bartering the rent out. They had fresh fruit and veggies, home grown and ripe, that were prime value here. In short order he'd gotten permission to dock and was smoothly sliding into port. Zoe stepped up and looked out at the screens flashing their products and news into space, "We gonna be here a while?" She was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, having pulled the night shift on the helm.

"According to Mal, maybe. He doesn't want to be too far into the black when – well, you know. Jon breaks water and Simon can't handle it..."

She gave her husband a frown, "We stay too long and we're liable to end up as the 'farmers market'. You know how things are here. Amnon will try his damnedest to get us to stay if there's profit in it."

"Would that be a bad thing?" He curled his arms around her middle. The condition that Jon was in, the explicit words that Mal had told him about getting out of the criminal side of things so that he and Zoe could start a family, the valuable artifact that they had for sale which would set them all up for life if Mal found a buyer... The Bazaar was, in Wash's humble opinion, the ideal compromise.

"Um -" she kissed him, "I know what you are thinking, Wash. The Bazaar is just as dangerous as our current gypsy lifestyle, crime and all. Maybe even more so. Do you really want to risk having our gorgeous spawn kidnapped by 'Golls?"

"They don't hit the station," he said as he let go and turned to inform Mal that they had docked. "Haven't yet anyhow, in all the hundred years its been here."

Mal said from the door, "But we ain't settin' roots here, Wash. Alightin' for a spell, making our contacts with civilization, and then flittin' on. That's our way. You'd go mad being bound to one place."

Wash thought about that and nodded. He would, likely. His heart was in the stars and Zoe and Mal knew him well enough to read that fact. "Ah, just toying with the idea, was all. You sure about having kids tottering about underfoot, Mal?" He got a grunt and a look that pretty much told him that the captain still meant what he'd said about making Zoe happy. Besides, Jon was going to have one, like it or not, and fairly soon too.

The captain of Serenity announced their successful docking to the crew and moved from the cockpit to the mess where Book and Jacob were insisting that Jon need not fret over the boxes of produce for the trade. The twelve-year old was firmly making sure that his dad didn't lift anything, even as Kaylee, River, Rose, and Jayne snagged said crates and hauled them down the stairs. Book took the last box and headed out leaving the pale man glaring at him over the top of his son's head. Jacob then said, "I'll get the dried herbs for trade and see what sells, huh?" before snagging the light weight but bulky container and rolling it out of the room.

Jon growled and put a hand on his swollen middle, somewhat obscured by his miles of varied gray, brown, and greenish cloth. "Why do I put myself through this?" The strange outfit was something most of them had gotten used to over the last couple of months, although both the tunic and the overlying blanket-like cloth changed by the pale skinned man's mood. Mal'd seen him wearing dark blues, deep greens, black and grays (although Zoe had told Jon flat out that black did not suit him right now), even rust tones with a hint of deep orange. Today he'd chosen a slightly lighter set of colors, natural tones and olive greens. The darker gray tunic made a nice contrast and set off his deep stormy blue eyes. The only one likely to make a fuss was Jayne, on account that he still thought the Doctor was wearing a skirt, regardless of the number of times he'd been informed that the feileadh mhor, or belted kilt, was not one.

"You love your kids?" Mal offered as he extended a hand to help the fellow up off the yellow toned couch.

While it was clear that Jon wanted to refuse the assistance, it was also plain as day that he wasn't getting up out of his seat without it. He finally accepted the leverage and hauled himself to his feet, "Love Rich, more like. Hopefully William has turned up a time and place that we can use to rescue him."

"Um... Won't that kill you?" Mal tried to keep a hold of the smooth cool fingers even as the Doctor pulled away from him.

"River can fly the TARDIS, Malcolm, if I'm on the station when it leaves. Between her and William they should be able to get Amadak out."

Mal frowns, "You hope."

"Indeed." The Doctor's heavy but soft fabric swished as he turned, the heavy worn black combat boots and thick charcoal toned hose nearly covering his legs. Mal found himself thinking it was a shame really as the man had quite nice ones. He shook the thought out of his mind.

"Look, I don't like this, Jon. -"

The pale man paused at the door, "I don't either, but I can't – _we_ can't – kill the parasite without Amadak here. It must be destroyed before I give birth or it could, likely will, go into my son, and then it will reproduce. Can't risk that. If it mutates it could reinfect River or Rose and there would be no stopping it."

"Look, I'm so sorry -"

"Save it, Captain. Just – Follow through this time." With that Jon was marching away, the cold fury he'd wrapped himself in making itself known once more. Inara stepped out of her shuttle. Mal slumped his shoulders as he stared out at the empty catwalk. He'd royally messed up. His cold feet then sleeping with Nandi had been seen like a slap to the face by both Companion and the Doctor and he felt her chill too. He knew it would make their rapidly approaching joint communion all the more difficult. Just... he hadn't been ready for Jon and Rich to leave. Even their assurance that they had other reasons to stay had not been enough to ease his fears. Because of that they'd indicated once they solved the situation with River's attackers that they intended to go, if the parasite had been taken care of. It seemed like a good idea at the time at least. After Rich had gone missing however, he had realized it was a very bad one.

The dark headed Companion moved past him, her flowing gown and straight hair rather a shock. He looked at her and she, impossibly, smiled at him, "Have you a buyer, Mal?"

"Someone's expressed interest, yes. Fellow came in on the sleeper ship this evening, a few hours ago, according to his wave. You planning on making any contracts here?"

Her eyes darkened a moment, as though she was considering how to answer that. She finally lifted her chin, "Doctors Smythe, both of them, have me on call. And you know why, so wipe that smirk off your face, Mr Reynolds."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, "So how much to borrow you for your haggling skills? Say seven percent of the take?"

Her eyes flicked over him a moment, "I'd like that in Rent Credit, captain."

"Thought you were leavin' -"

"Consider it a holding fee then. I don't intend on giving up my shuttle even if I do leave with Jon. And I might not. I was angered. Your actions hurt, and I'm not used to feeling that sort of pain." She stood there a moment and he offered his arm more out of habit than anything else. She settled her hand on him, "Companions are not supposed to care about emotional entanglements, but Jon makes everything different Mal. He needs you. There's so much at stake here, and - I'd stay with you, if that was what you wanted."

"Helping Jon does not require you using yourself to 'pay' me 'Nara."

She frowned, rather prettily, "Who says my staying has anything to do with you helping Jon?"

"Isn't that what you were meaning?"

"I thought you hated the fact that I'm a whore."

"You haven't done much 'whoring' since Jon's come aboard. Minor state dignitaries aside. I don't consider you going to a ball, or giving some woman a back rub to be whoring, 'Nara." Her eyes flicked over to him as they crossed the cargo hold for the airlock. "Well, I don't, OK?"

She nodded, "Sure, OK." Fact was, he was right. Over the last fifteen months she'd had a handful of clients, just enough to stay on the active listings for Companions. And of those only one or two actually required any sex on her part. And Jon had offered her a more official 'retainers' contract to maintain her cover, that could have eliminated the need for any 'whoring' at all. Fact was, she, Jon, Rich, Rose, Simeon and Saritha had gone ahead with the bonding in an effort to kill the parasite and had it quite weakened and contained. They couldn't destroy it however. And with Rich being missing it was becoming stronger again.

Mal spotted the brawny gun-for-hire, "Jayne!" The man looked back at him and then caught the tossed bag of credits. "Stock up on ammo for the ship while you're out shopping for yourself, right?" The fellow checked the bag and then nodded. "Meet us at Post, might be mail for you. Doc? How are our medical supplies?"

"They are good, actually. Maybe even have a bit extra that is on the brink of going bad, want me to make some trades?"

"Do. Kaylee, we need anything?"

The engineer shook her head, "Only if the parts arrived we have on order, Capt'n." She took the younger doctor's hand, "I'll help Simon though." With that the two of them set off to explore the bazaar on what could be considered an official 'date' even though they had some minor business to deal with.

Nearby Rose and Saritha were talking to Jon. Jacob hovered nearby along with Book. Mal wanted the very pregnant man to stay on the ship, but knew there was no way to make him do so. He watched the five of them move out in a group, with the youngest hauling their extra dried spice storage bin behind him. He knew that between Book and Jacob they'd make a killing here selling those bundles.

Once out of Mal's sight the Doctor told Rose and River to be careful and gave them a stack of UDs. He needed to meet with an old friend, Marshal William J. Johns. River had little desire to see the flame haired merc again, no matter how much he might have changed or who he brought with him. Besides with the baby less then two weeks away from arrival the two young women felt they had some shopping to do. They'd maintain mental contact though and meet back in the square before going together to the Post. As they walked away Saritha said to Rose, "I bet it's a girl."

Unable to resist the bottle blond turned to look back at the Doctor with a raised eyebrow. He frowned at them, "No pink."

"Even if it _is_ a girl?" Rose asked him.

"Bloody well impossible for it to be. We've been over this before." The dark headed teen next to her stuck out her tongue and repeated that she thought he was wrong. His expression darkened even more. "No pink, Rose. Unless it's - just a toy," he conceded.

She grinned at him, "I promise, OK? No pink." Then she leaned over to Saritha and whispered, "Lavender?" to which the other girl giggled.

Book offered to say with Jon and was surprised when the pale man agreed. Jacob could handle himself well enough, and the lad loved being able to do the sales on his own. The Doctor gave him a kiss on his cheek and told him to keep his eyes open for danger. Jacob replied that he'd be keeping his mind open for contractions because he didn't expect the Doctor to admit when they started, before heading out into the crowd.

The Doctor paused a moment before stepping from the station side airlock into the access hallway. Crossing from the lead lined outer to the inner hull caused him to pause a second time and put his hand on the wall. Dizzy. Was that the sound of a TARDIS? Book put a hand on his shoulder, "Jon? - Doctor? Do you need to go back to the ship?" He ignored the questions for a moment and made sure Verity was still in the cargo hold. She whispered to him that she hadn't moved, but that someone had arrived by Time Ring moments before and that another type 40 TTC was materializing at that moment, or rather a younger version of herself was. She warned him to be careful because it could mean that something to do with the Time War was under way here. Book squeezed his arm to get his attention, "Jon are you well? Do you need -"

"I'm fine, Shepherd. Someone's just used a time travel device here, is all. Wanted to make sure it wasn't my ship. She's where I left her, so this must be someone else. If I didn't need to meet Marshal Johns I'd stay on _Serenity_. However, I need to do this." With that he pulled himself together before he straightened his somber charcoal gray tunic and the flowing multi-hued natural toned feileadh mhor. He had taken to wearing the unusual outfit for comfort's sake (not to mention that it somewhat hid that he was pregnant). Book waited for him and they stepped out into the station proper together. Less than two weeks he had, maybe. Then he could go back to wearing normal clothes.

He'd better find out who had the Gallifreyan tech and why they were here before the entire War came crashing back around his ears. Bad enough that he was bound to meet himself... He wondered which version it would be. He just hoped it wasn't his first self, because that would be traumatic, impossible to explain, and he was very visibly – well _fat _didn't exactly cover the watermelon/basketball sized growth that he was currently trying to pass off as a beer belly, particularly as the strain of Amadak being away from him made him look rather more haggard and sharp featured.

Book stayed with him, even as his eyes darted about, looking for the cause of the temporal distortion in the area around him. The station was a maze of spaces, levels, stairs and lifts, ramps and mismatched walls. It was crowded, much like the last time. Off to the side Book spotted Simon and Kaylee along with a crowd of onlookers listening to the spiel of a carnival-style ringleader, "We are not alone!" The man's voice boomed out drawing in the curious and the bored. "Forget what you think you know. Forget what your mother told you when she tucked you in at night, forget the lies of our oppressive, cabalistic Allied governments! Behind this curtain lies the very secret they don't want you to see - the most astounding scientific find in the history of humanity." He was dressed in an old top hat and a coat that was once quite expensive although it'd seen better days. "Proof! Of Alien life. Yes, go ahead and laugh, sir, but what you see inside this room will change your life forever! It will haunt your dreams and harrow - YES - your very soul. For six bits you can unlock – this lady wants to go, I cannot allow her to be near such wonder, such thrilling horror, unescorted. Who will go with her? Who will see the unholy truth, the only captured specimen - in existence - of Alien life!"

They skirt the crowd even as Kaylee and Simon pay the twelve bits to go inside. In the chaos of the place, the various vendors hawking their wares, street style performers, the odors of various ready to eat foods, Jon's presence is barely noted. People sort of slid away as he moved through the press, responding to his subconscious order to grant him passage through the throng. The majority didn't even look at him, somehow not noticing either the condition he was in nor the priest with him. Book took it in stride, having spent enough time with the Doctor to be used to this. If the man didn't want to be seen then someone looking right at him likely would be looking through him, unable to even recall what he looked like later. The fellow had told him it was a perception filter, not harmful in the least, but useful in his state to avoid too many questions.

"You Sir, Would you and your lady be next in line?" the man called behind him.

Wash offered up the required monies and took Zoe by the hand even as she said, "But Honey, We've seen this before..."

Beyond this under all the other noise the Doctor could hear Simon speaking, "Yep. That's a cow fetus."

The black curtains don't hide much, as it is really a smallish space, about the size of a coat closet. They don't do much to cover much of the conversation either. Kaylee's voice drifts out to his ears before he gets fully out of range, "Guess so... Does seem to have an awful lot of limbs..."

Simon, who is inside the booth which was kept dark with only a single light shining through the large jar sat in the middle of a cloth covered stand holding Kaylee's hand, said "It's mutated. Most of the breeding on the outer planets was done by shipping DNA scrip instead of animals. The first herds were grown in labs, then set loose. Every now and then..."

"But cow? How do you figure?" Kaylee was from one of those 'outer planets' actually. She'd never seen such a horrible mutated thing before. It was much easier for her to believe that this creature was the product of alien life than something familiar. She made a face and pulled a little closer to the jar.

"It's upside down." While it was not one of Simon's more brilliant moves, it did manage to not piss her off. He called that a win.

Kaylee twisted her upper body to sort of put the thing in the jar upright and realizes that Simon was right, "Okay, then. Cow."

"And I'm out twelve bits. I really know how to show a girl a..." his voice drifted off a bit then he found the correct word for the situation, "_disgusting_ time."

But Kaylee doesn't really mind, "Oh, it's sweet. Poor little thing never even saw the light of day, now it's in show business!"

He honestly thought her ability to come out of everything with sight of what was good was the biggest thing about her causing him to fall so deeply, and so stupidly in love. "You manage to find the bright side to every single thing," he said to her. Now if he could just stop here he'd be OK...

It doesn't help his brain that she had taken as much a shine to him as he has to her, and that she had far more experience saying the right thing at the right time than he did. She saddled up close and took his hand again, "Also, we get the booth to ourselves for five whole minutes..." The flirt should be a signal to shut up and kiss her.

Simon didn't see it. "We are not alone, remember?" indicating the jar with his eyes.

"He won't squawk. Tell me more good stuff about me."

That he could do, as long as he didn't think too hard or talk to long, "Well, you're kind of a genius when it comes to machines... you always say what you mean, and your eyes..." opps... that too much. He really needed to just kiss her now.

Only Kaylee wanted to hear what he had to say about her eyes, "Yeah? Eyes, yeah?"

He froze. He was gonna blotch this so bad. What would be the best way to not piss her off? Simon took her other hand, "I - I don't know how to..." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Miss Frye. But your eyes are like my universe. You are the only, literally, the only girl in my world." He was so hoping she understood what he meant. Rose was not an option, and even though he could go anywhere or anywhen she'd still be the only girl he thought of.

"What?"

He was shaking. He'd known her fifteen months, and in that time he'd fallen so hard and so fast... "Think about it, Kaylee. When Jon goes my sister will go with him. I'm sure of it. I could go with them, any place. Any time. I could have anyone... but none of them would be you."

Oh, she was not ready for this... for undying declarations of love. And that was what he had said without saying it. "Are you for real?"

He pulled back slightly, "Well, if you want to make it into a joke... I suppose you could turn it into one. I mean, all the other women on Serenity are taken, professional, related, or Rose... and while I like Mei-Gui just fine, she's not you, that does make it rather immediately factual. You are the only girl I'll ever want to even be in my world. I've been head over heels for you the moment I first set eyes on you, Kaylee."

"That's a hell of a thing to say," she said quietly.

"Should I apologize?"

"I think you should kiss me." He moved in and captured her lips being rather tender and she wrapped her arms around his neck. One thing in his favor was that he did kiss well. But – he'd practically said he wanted to spend his life with her, even when his family left. With her! And she was just a farm girl with a knack for machines, not a doctor like him, not smart or suave or brave or even witty, like River or Rose. What if he was just having a passing fancy? She'd been trying to get his attention for months, and always she thought he was going for Rose. Rose ... only Rose was interested in something besides Simon.

"Oh my god, it's grotesque!" Wash proclaimed as he and Zoe came into the room, "Oh, and there's something in a jar." Zoe smacked him. "Ow." He ogled the cow fetus and rubbed his arm.

Kaylee pulled away, "I – I gotta think about this, Simon. Really." She hurried out of the booth leaving him alone with Wash and Zoe. He frowned at her retreating form.

Zoe moved over to him, "Scared her away again, did you?"

"This may come as a shock, but I'm actually not very good at talking to girls," Simon said to her.

The dark skinned woman managed a teasing grin, "Why, is there someone you ARE good at talking to?"

He made a face at her as her husband began making noises at the jar and play acting out what the 'alien' might say, "Do not fear me. Ours is a peaceful race, and we must live in harmony..."

"How did you end up with him again? It might prove useful to my goals."

Zoe laughed. "Hang in there, son. Kaylee's never had a serious suitor before."

Kaylee made it through the crowd and spotted Saritha and Rose ahead of her just at the edge of the center square. The blond motioned her over. That was strange. She moved that way and joined them, wondering what it was they were up to. Saritha looked at her, "Da needs us to keep an eye on someone. But she can see us, too well. I'll buy you an Ice Planet if you'll help out."

"Sure. Who?"

Rose pointed out the petite blond in a tan jacket and pants. It looked rather like a swanky riding outfit really. The young woman seemed to almost shimmer into and out of her field of view. Kaylee blinked at the strange and difficult time she was having just focusing on the woman. Saritha took her hand. Rose whispered in her ear, "Focus on her left wrist. Do you see the heavy metallic band she is wearing?"

"The sort of bronze-copper looking thing? Yeah."

"It has a filter on it, to make you forget she is there. But you can fight it, Kaylee. You are stronger than some inanimate piece of metal," the dark headed young woman told her in mesmerizing tones. "We need to get her to go to the lower level."

Off to the side, heading toward his meeting with Johns, the Doctor came through another doorway into the main square, stopped and looked at the very familiar blue box that sat in the shadows on the far side and narrowed his eyes. '_Verity_?' The marshal wanted to meet in an obscure location, several floors down and had made it slightly difficult to find the clues. He'd left a locker key at the Post, a note in the locker with directions, and a Time Lord with a rising temper.

'_Yes, Doctor_?' came the response from both TARDIS versions.

'_OK. Which version of me is here, luv_?' He motioned for Book to head down the spiral stair and followed the older man. His TARDIS, the older one, sent him a curious wave, wondering that herself.

The younger TARDIS expressed confusion, '_You've changed once. Our __cèile__ is with you. How did you get outside?_' He pondered this, telling the younger version of Verity to check again, as he placed his feet on the lower floor and scanned again for the source of the other temporal distortion. She filtered back to him a surprised sensation and then said, '_Both of you carry another.._.'

He knew then that he needed Jacob with him, so that the boy did not disappear. The mental summons called the child to his side, and the source of the fading eddy from the Time Ring moved enough to reveal a blond head. He extended his hand toward the boy with an insistent air. "What's the matter, Da?" Jacob took his hand even as the Doctor refused to look away from the heart shaped face and dark eyes of the woman staring down at him. "Da?"

"It's nothing, - or everything. Stay with me Jacob." The boy looked up at the person he was focused on. "I don't know what is going on here, but I intend on finding out."

Book put a hand on his shoulder, "You're in no condition to go chasing after someone."

"Don't need to. Did you see that blue box on the other side of the upper landing? That's my ship, a younger version of her. We just wait here until I step out and then try to enlist my other self's help. Besides, River and Rose are up there. They will keep an eye on 'Fred' for me." For the moment though, his gaze was enough to pin the blond down and keep her from moving. At least until Saritha, Kaylee, and Rose cornered her and guided her down the nearest stairwell.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N:_ Well, things should start getting interesting very soon... _

Doctor Who and the Threads of Time

Part four: St Albans Space Bazaar, Wild Space/Alliance Fringe, Late 'October', 2518.

Romana had not expected to see another of her kind here. Well, not totally true. She had expected to see the Doctor here. If nothing else the Doctor was more 'her kind' than anything else. To say she loved him would be an understatement. She'd literally remade herself for him, once she realized that he was not going to ever bridge the gap that existed between them in her first form. She'd thought she had the lives to spare, after all. He was three ahead of her.

Somehow he managed to remain ahead of her, no matter how many alters she spun off in her attempt to get more done at the same time. It was not legal, but it was her right as president in such extreme conditions such as this, to use her lives for the good of Gallifrey. She didn't have the choice but to live more than one life at a time. Although she would bet that the Doctor would accuse her of having a bad case of multiple personality even though she more viewed it as living her life rather more non-linearly than most. Besides by the time this life caught up with the next one it would be too late to do this. By using K-9 and Leela as communication sources and keeping an open bridge with her TARDIS she'd found ways to communicate with her other selves, deliberately crossing lifetimes with them. The Matrix had shown her how to do it.

She wasn't sure if the current Doctor on Gallifrey knew what she was doing, although she was pretty sure he suspected, particularly after she'd regenerated again for no reason other than a personality change. He'd been Lord President, after all. He knew what secrets the Matrix held. She'd claimed that the spell with Rassilon's Visions triggered it, although it was only a partial truth. The Matrix suggested the option and provided a way to created the 'watcher' which was a bit more substantial than a normal Watcher and allowed her to slip away in order to do this work in a body that knew and understood the Doctor better than perhaps any other Time Lord.

She believed the truth of it because this was the body he accepted. This was the one he instructed and lived with. This was the one he traveled with and explored the mysteries of behavior with. This was the one that became his Tyro, his student, his follower, his confident, and his lover. She knew about his bonded, even though he never spoke of them. Even though she never was allowed to sink that deep into his mind. She knew in the end, about his Verity, his TARDIS that was more than just a ship, and how they had crossed the bounds between species in the most intimate of ways. She knew that he offered her more than all the knowledge at the Academy. A truth that could not be denied. Everything he'd taught her, both good and bad, both legal and not, she accepted because _he_ was the one showing her these impossible things. He'd taught her the flow of the universe, the dance of the stars, the pattern of history that she'd not seen before. He'd helped her live. He'd pulled her out of the dusty unchanging weight of what was 'proper' and set her free. And then the summons had come for her to go home. She realized that she didn't want to leave. Not like that. But they parted anyhow, and she'd learned lessons of her own, ones he hadn't meant for her to learn yet. E-space changed her. The War changed her. The Doctor changed her.

She preferred to deal with his various lives in this form, shuffling her duties to allow her to zip from one incarnation to another of his with ease. Her other lives were carefully kept away from him, doing other duties for the war effort that the Doctor need not know about. So she had come here, expecting to see the Doctor, but never in her wildest dreams had she allowed for this... This person, the one below her, staring up at her, she had not even looked to see if there were signs of him before deciding to come here. His presence completely blew her away. It was like having a singularity open up right in front of her eyes and hovering there in space. It was like seeing the Untempered Schism appear out of nowhere. He clearly had somehow broken his reflect link to the rest of them, and yet she was more concerned that she did not have a clue as to who he was. For Time Lords and Ladies were told that they always would know each other, no matter what happened, which face they wore, any time and any place. Considering she had not been aware of him until someone else moved into his personal space that she'd been keeping an eye on was, in short, alarming.

She couldn't feel him. It was almost as if he wasn't there, but she knew he was. Even as she felt the pull of his power, so much greater than anything else she was aware of, she still couldn't feel him in her mind. She couldn't locate that link that should have joined them instinctively. But he was a Time Lord. Two hearts, correct chemical signature for their shared species, jam packed with artron energy that indicated a very long breadth of time travel... She had no doubt that he was the same species as herself. But the fact remained that he did not trigger a synaptic response that would indicate he was one. Most odd. Most dangerous. What did his presence here mean?

She couldn't read his biodata. Well it sort of figured that she couldn't with his current state. There was no doubt that he'd formed some sort of major attachments with lesser beings, turning his back on their kind. And he'd done so brazenly. Why? How had he been able to break so many of the laws of time and remain sane? Not to mention free. Could it be that his ability made those Time Lords watching the Web overlook him? Or was it the fact that he hid here, in the beginnings of the later Human era that had so many other Time aware beings present that the watching Time Lords tended to avoid it? It was sinister all the same, to see such overt evidence of his disregard for custom. Like a slap across the face, really. Like he was shouting out his defiance. Not only was he hidden in mind, but she had no way of picking out from his body as to who he was related to, which family he came from, how old he was or how many regenerations he'd used. As far as she knew he was completely timeless. And that was bothersome.

She'd known about his helpers though. The power woven around them marking them as his Bonded, his Tyro, his Companions, was unmistakable. Both TARDIS and Lord had hands in their shaping, and she hadn't seen such a thing before. It was as though they formed a 'mini-web' a substitute set or reflect links, heavily controlled and blocked by the TTC. Somehow they'd found a balance, a delicate point of time and space that kept the entire risky thing from unraveling. It would be impossible to mimic, but likely the one thing that kept them all sane was their careful balance of opposite forces. Earth to air, fire to water, aether to void... the ultimate double-triad, expounded into a prime of some unknown number. And she could tell that there was some generic bleed-through occurring with them, as though they were absorbing things they shouldn't be, or perhaps the TARDIS was over zealous in it's adaptations with them. Or they had been given the retro-DNA serum...

Whatever had been done, she couldn't read them either, not enough to peg down their pasts at least. Not even the youngest one. She could see them, though. The red headed man she spotted first was loosely connected, but had been present during some outpouring or another of power. The boy with the brilliant smile was hard to even look at, with the fractures of time around him. And coming up on her was three females. Two of them were very powerfully and deeply connected with both each other and the Time Lord on the lower level. The third was more distantly tied, but she could sense that the young woman had accepted a transfusion of blood or healing energy at some point over the last couple of years, likely within the last fifteen months or so. Her body released similar pheromones as a Time Lady might, although with a stronger human overtone.

All of them seemed to work in concert. It's only after she'd been caught that she realized they had distracted her and directed her attention to what the Time Lord wanted her to see. There was clear evidence that they could communicate with each other on a level that didn't even tip off her awareness. Such an intense ability required extremely deep bonds. The sort of bonds that were definitely not legal for Time Lords to be forging with lesser species. And he showed absolutely no fear at being seen. If anything it almost was as though she were the one in the wrong.

Most astonishing though was the fact that _he_ was very clearly heavy with child. This wouldn't have been as much of a surprise if said individual had been female. However, this was very definitely a Time Lord, not a Lady she was seeing. His clothing selection was most unusual, consisting of a regional costume that was little more than a over-sized woolen blanket, pleated across the back and fashioned with a belt over a loose tunic that flowed over his swollen form. The front of the upper part of the plaid was looped diagonally over his upper body, serving to somewhat hide the sheer shocking size of his girth, compared to his rather lean limbs and hands. He looked like he had a beach ball stuffed under his tunic, actually. And she knew better.

His intense stormy blue eyes pinned her down like an insect in a preserving tray. She felt as though this male, powerful beyond anything she'd ever sensed before, could flay her open just with his gaze. And then the ruddy-amber haired boy moved more in front of him blocking her view just a bit, and she could realized the Temporal signature around him was her own, although that was shifting, cracking, as the past tried to mutate around them and failed because of the raw ability pouring off the mysterious and rogue Time Lord in the center of the tempest. She suddenly had a very, very odd feeling. She knew she shouldn't be here. This should not be happening.

She went to flee, her right hand landing on her left wrist, only to find that the Time Ring was no longer there. Instead was a grip of strong but oddly warmed fingers, the single pulse of which might make her think of a human although the scent was anything but. Romana gazed into the eyes of the dangerous young lady, more than a girl definitely, holding onto her arm, the device she'd snagged off it in her other hand, "Lei-yu says you are to come with us." The grip on her wrist felt strong enough to snap bone. This individual had been trained as a warrior or an assassin and knew full well how to take her down. Whether this was because the mysterious 'Lei-yu' was telling her at the moment how to drop a full Time Lady/Lord to their knees or if it were something she knew instinctively, Romana had no clue. The two humans with her effectively blocked any escape she might have had without causing overly massive attention to focus on them. Since she knew she shouldn't be here, she wanted to avoid that at all costs. "I will not hesitate to carry you," the dark headed, slim woman informed her. Having little choice, the better part of valor here was to go willingly with these three other women down the stairs.

"I'm just here to meet someone," she tried as they moved to the way down to the lower level. "I'm not a threat to this 'Lei-yu', whoever he is. You can let go of my arm now." Instead of that being effective the human with artificially lightened hair took her other hand while the dark haired one shifted her grip from her wrist to her fingers, tightly holding her in such a way to crush her hand if she resisted. The surge of energy that jolted between the two, with her in the middle made Romana swivel her head to stare first at one set of brown eyes then at the other.

"That's not the full truth," the two women said in unison. The Time Lady heard TARDIS song flitting against her mind, completely foreign, as it was filtered through the brains of these two clearly more-than-human females. They were on the stairs now, and she lacked the option to pull away without creating a huge scene. Fear surged through her. Nothing like this was possible as far as she knew, she'd never encountered anything similar before. The third female with these two had a natural low level psychic ability too, but nothing nearly as strong as what she was getting from the pair holding her hands. Who is the Time Lord commanding these young women?

River maintained her grip, glad that she'd not been forced to lash out at the individual Jon wanted corralled and brought before him. She knew that normally he'd have handled this alone. His current state rather prevented such risky behaviors however. She didn't mind helping here. As they reached him she handed off the thick bracelet-like metal/coral cuff that she knew was a time travel device to him. Only on taking it from her did he look away from the Time Lady it belonged to. His pale fingers caressed the surface for a moment, before it disappeared into the folds of his clothes. The woman jerked a bit in her and Rose's grip pulling the more human of them slightly off balance. The glare that passed between Time Lord and Time Lady would peel paint, although both seemed immune to the power of it. Finally the tan garbed woman said, "Give that back."

The older, wiser, and far more powerful Doctor had but one word for his one time assistant, "No." He of course knew exactly who this was and the point of the when it was for her, too. She'd desperately swapped regenerations trying to win a War that had only one possible outcome. He knew this now. He needed to inform her somehow that her current plans were greatly flawed. Preventing certain things from happening would depend on how well she listened now. Romana too could fall into the category of making different choices. He needn't be so alone in the aftermath of the War. Clearly their 'ultimate' weapon was flawed in some major ways. It had to be for her to even accidentally cross paths with him. Jacob remained near his side, touching him. While not necessary to protect the boy, it served to settle his own nerves.

"Look, I don't know who you are, or why I can't read you... But you must give me the Time Ring back," the blond double-hearted woman insisted.

He smirked at her, "Actually, I don't." He could get rid of the parasite, now. It would willingly flow into this offered way out of him, weakened as it was. But he'd rather kill it, and finding individuals that this particular Time Lady would willingly allow into her mind would be damn near impossible.

She sputtered in rage, "How dare you! Do you have any idea who I am?"

"I'd know you any where and any when, my Lady President Romanadvoratrelundar. I'm fairly sure your mucking about in time here is possible because of some interesting jiggery-pokery with your regenerations. Using _Mother_ like you are is bound to cause problems." She shied back from him as he leaned forward, "And don't try playing innocent. I know what you are capable of. I've seen the evidence of it in ways you can not begin to imagine. Shorting out the minds of _mo_ _cèile _won't work. We're protected by the Menti Celesti, the power of the Pythia and the Sisterhood, the Guardians, or what's left of them, so don't _even_ try." He wasn't sure why he'd told her such things, but he knew that the shifting past had made it true, the mark of the Dragon on his arm that linked him to Ka Faraq Gatri of legend had been morphed from a simple biotag into a representation of which allies still vested power in him. It carried the linking of the Flame from Karn, the last hopes of the Calabai-Yau, of which the weapon had forced into an infinite point like a dimensional black hole that he somehow kept from swallowing all of reality. It was his will that kept the shimmering line between magic and science from rending the universe into shards of fractured time without any hope of ordered change. And if it weren't for the parasite he'd be tempted to wipe her from the face of it.

And yet... her manipulations had placed him here, and he somehow managed to keep the power in check and retain his sense of right and wrong, most times, no matter how angered he became. Was his urge just? No. Her actions had not been evil. If anything, here was a chance to alter the course of the War, to tell him what was going on and come to some other method of ending it. Or at least save some of his people that hadn't needed to die. With as many Daleks, Skaro allies, and mutants that had survived surely that was an option here.

Romana's cheeks flushed a deep cinnamon in her emotional state, "I'll have to demand that you prove that claim, sir!" He was, perhaps not a big brawny man, but certainly a tall imposing one. Unlike others of their kind this Lord was just oozing power. She knew enough to realize that he was the sort of man that could wipe this entire station from existence in the blink of an eye. He could but somehow she knew he wouldn't. He was not a renegade that caused damage to the timelines just for the hell of it. He was also just as likely to slap her as he was to actually show her anything.

Instead, however, he ignored her, "I've got a contact to make, and I'm already late. You're not going anyplace without the Time Ring, and I happen to know it's not on any sort of timer or self recall. So," he turned away. "Thank you, Saritha, Rose, Kaylee. I think it's under control now and I know you have shopping you wanted to take care of. Jacob, can you give Kaylee the spices please? I really want you to stay with me."

The young ladies holding Romana released her, and the third one took the pulled trolley from the boy who looked downcast. She smiled at him, "Hey don't look so sad, Jacob. I'll split the take with you."

"It ain't the money, Kaylee. 'Sides I beat your record last time," he let off a laugh, "Good luck with that, baby-cheeks."

"Hah, that was beginner's luck!" she marched the stash away and begin trying to sell the bundles.

The Time Lady turned as the two women seemed to shift from dangerous hardened fighters into nothing more than teens being cut loose to play in a shopping mall. It's almost like they forget she's a possible threat because this unknown Time Lord tells them so. She swallowed and then turned back to look at him, "And what am I supposed to do?"

"How am I supposed to tell you that?" the pale skinned man asked in reply.

She frowned, "I can only imagine that you'd know."

His shoulder shrugged, "Might. But there are rules to follow. Main one is: Don't reveal the future." With that he, the older human she'd all but ignored, and the boy all set off across the square to the next lift down.

"You can't do this!" she hollered at his back.

"Doin' it. Don't think you can stop me."

Frustrated now, Romana glanced up at where she knew the Doctor's TARDIS sat then off toward the Time Lord she had no choice but to follow because he had her one way out of here. How had everything gone so pear-shaped? For a heavily pregnant man he seemed to move gracefully enough, with considerable speed. She wondered how long gestation was for him. Loomings took the rough equivalent of 19.5 standard humans months. Leela's gestation had been lessened and the child born with low birthweight. Human bodies just didn't cope well with the needed extra development time for a Gallifreyan brain, not even psychic humans. It sure looked like to her that he was between 18.75 and 19.25 months, which meant he should be having his child any time. What in Rassilon's name was he doing up and about? And why did she suddenly care? Where where his bonded? She was certain that the older male with him was not his spouse. The two young women he referred to as 'mo cèile' could not be the father of his child so there had to be at least one other. The sisterhood insisted that the Old Ways had their bondings in groups, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen... prime numbers. She blinked and found he was paused at the lift, waiting for it to open, turned back to look at her with his intense gaze. '_I'm here to meet the Doctor_,' she suddenly found herself saying to him.

His mental voice replied, '_I know. Are you coming with me, or not, _Fred?'

She cleared the space then, moving to his side, "Doctor?" but she knew already. He'd lived through use of the final weapon, just as she'd planned. Her ideas were valid. He would live. He was the correct one to place there. "What has happened -"

"Set the wheels in motion, and now they're turnin', Romana. You owe me," he pushed her into the lift, and followed her in. "You know I can't tell you the future. I can't say what you do, or how it ends. I'm not even sure if it has ended. Time's shifting like quicksand around us, but it doesn't change the fact that you owe me for all the shit you put me through."

"I have no idea -"

He cut her off with a glance. He wasn't even thinking of her next incarnation which caused him so much grief. No, he was specifically focused on what was happening here, and now. They rode down through the station in silence for a bit before he said, "You know, I don't usually say this, but I wish I'd told you go fuck yourself when you showed up to send me off to Chimera to 'talk' to Destari. I'd tried to forget what happened there. But finding myself face to face with the end results and the fact that I'd made completely different choices this time, I can't really ignore it now. What happens to Jacob here, Romana. How do you make it better?"

"I'm hoping you, the younger you I'm here to meet, tells me that."

"You know... I'm going to tell you now, _Chur ni-duh_," he somehow managed to keep his hands off her even though he wanted to slam her hard into the metal wall. Hard enough to dent it and cave in her skull. He was so pissed off that he was seeing blood. "Leave them alone unless they ask you for help, _dong ma_? Your little stunt might just kill Jamie. At least before I knew he was put back into his own time and was alive. Now – I don't know if he lives or not. Are you pleased with yourself?" He glared at her. Romana took a half step back, blinking. Did he just say what she thought he'd said?

Jacob tugged on his sleeve, "Da?"

"Let me handle this Jacob," he warned the boy.

But his son had been dealing with his mood swings ever since Rich had been whisked away and knew exactly what to say, "You being angry might set you into labor, Màthair**.** You have to calm down." This seemed to have an instant effect, making the pale man not only pull the boy into a hug but to calm considerably. It did not pass the Doctor's attention that Jacob was using Gàidhlig rather all of the sudden. He made a face at the Time Lady over his son's head.

She was not looking at him however, being focused on the lad instead of the father. The boy reminded her so much of Jamie and the little dark-haired version of the man standing there holding him that it was almost painful. She watched them for a moment, but by the time her eyes drifted up the expression on the Doctor's face was hidden in the boy's hair. She took a shaky breath. Had she been doing the right thing? She no longer knew. What was it that the Doctor mean about _Mother_? She knew the matrix insisted that she address it as such on occasion. She also knew that there was likely a price for it's help because it had too much at stake to just allow things to happen or to help them along without any other motivation. Her TARDIS warned her about trusting too much, particularly where the ancient Matrix core was concerned. Now the Doctor, a future, post War Doctor, was telling her the same thing. She shivered.

Her house had major problems with instability, personality instability. Heartshaven Cousins formed from Dvora after Morbus tainted the older name, but the flaws within remained. She wondered now if she too had fallen prey to the curse, if her past/future she willfully lived along side one another was in fact the product of her approaching madness. At least having formed this regeneration specifically for the Doctor allowed her one life to see how it should be lived before the ultimate end. "If I told you I was sorry would it help?" she finally asked softly.

The lift door opened, "If I asked you to stop, would you?"

She kept up with him this time as he walked out into the corridor, "No."

"Then you're not sorry, Romana," he wagged a finger at her. "You see the pain but think the eventual win is worth it." he paused to check the door numbers on a small card then set off again, "You lose yourself because all you can see is the overall picture and forget that the tokens on the playing board are people. Thousands of lives with every move, and you never once stop to think about them until it's too late." Then he paused a second before adding, "besides you aren't sure if the plan you follow is your's or _Mother's_, and therein lies the problem. The Matrix doesn't care if we win or lose, just as long as _it_ survives. And as long as you are listening to it your plans will never be your own."

She made a face, "And you didn't listen to her when you were Lord President?"

"Bloody well fought her every corrupted whisper."

"I don't understand. How can you say you trust me when you clearly don't."

"Is this _Mother_ or Romana I'm speaking to?" he inquired.

"What in Rassilon's name are you talking about?"

He cast her a sideways look, "Can't tell you."

"You can't or you won't, Doctor?" She wanted to slap him. Then she cringed. She couldn't hit him. He was pregnant, for Rassilon's Sake. Suddenly she wanted to make him sit down and stop marching all over the place. Like he'd sit still? The Doctor? Hah, not likely.

He turned and glanced at her, "Can't, won't... same difference. There are Rules, Romana."

Odd, he never followed them before. He was always content to allow others to pick up the pieces behind him, either the CIA or various human groups. She supposed now that he was being more of a sticker on them because he would have to clean up after himself instead. She stopped, "If you lived then we won, right?" She grasped at something, anything, that might justify her treatment of him, "You're here, and you've seen the end. We win?"

He went still, "No." There was a long uncomfortable pause in which she did not dare to breathe or blink. "No one won," it's only after that he glanced back at her, daring to meet her eyes again, that she saw the raw power and burn from the final use of the reflect link when all others willed themselves to his domination. The power had not faded. Having it had not lessened the pain of using it. It had not made him less vengeful, although he'd not been able to fully end the War. Rassilon's calculations had not been perfect. Then again, if even one of the thousand resisted slightly then the results were not going to be as effective as if all of them laid their lives out for him. She knew that something must have gone wrong. Was it another renegade? One of her old advisers changing his mind at the last moment? The Doctor himself refusing the power in total, allowing in that micro-instant, for choice that allowed the enemy to flee if they had mind to? "Telling you changes nothing, because you'll do what you know you must do, and you're not sorry, Romana. If you were you'd find that impossible way to fix it all."

He was a God. He had all of Time, all that was, all the had ever been or could be, at his fingertips. He could see it, feel it, coursing through him with every beat of his hearts. And it burned. Every thought could be reality, every breath could be life or death. Her ability was a mere echo of his. How was it that he avoided being consumed? How was it that he managed to not force events around him into stopping and becoming crystallized forever? She saw now empires burning, both sides horribly burnt by raw plasma, the shattered state of Time as he knew it now, the hanging gloom of the upper dimensions threatening to fold all of the universe back into a single point, the strain of knowing he'd lost it all and the enemy somehow managed to survive with enough power to keep on fighting.

She heard sobs and slowly became aware that they were hers. By the time the flames cleared he had entered the room beyond. He may or may not have cared that she was distraught by what he'd shown her. Romana no longer had the connection to him, to this him, that she once had. The faint ripples of his emptiness washed over her like blackness in the wake of a solar flare. She couldn't stay here. It was more than she could cope with. The Time Lady turned and rushed away, back to where the younger Doctor was. She'd foolishly thought her actions saved him... but how could she call him living with as much pain as he existed in with every passing breath? How could she ameliorate it? How could she prove she was truly sorry? Where would she find that impossible reparation, and how much of reality would it cost to create it?


	5. Chapter 5

A/N:_ You all wanted to know where Riddick was- well here's where he is. Now, the others just need to find him..._

Doctor Who and the Threads of Time

Part five: Psychological Restraint Station, PRS-Q9, Kova Sector, Mid-June, 2493.

Swimming through murky ink, part of him was sure he was safe here- but not so safe if he surfaced. And yet he was drawn to the light, almost fighting to get to it, as though danger was the only way to really be alive. Black gave way to white, like a diver breaking the surface of the water. Senses sprung to life, an overwhelming amount of input for his system to take in all at once, even though his mind insisted on recording all of it. What impulse won was that of his stomach. He vomited all over, shivering the shit from his system. Drugs, he was under the influence of drugs and the only possibility it could be were Kova based truth serums. Something about this was extremely familiar. As though he'd lived this moment several times before already. The expected noise reached his ears. He heard a voice make a disgusted sound and the telltale signs of soggy shoes on tile. Must have hit someone besides himself. He's aware of two things: there's been a line down his throat – a feeding tube that's been removed. And lines snaked into his veins, bladder and bowels – a Kovan waste pump and IV drip - that has not. He hates these bastards for the discomfort they are putting him through, not to mention anything else he might be feeling.

Dark to light. Living to death. Or was that the other way? A rather cocky voice in his head insisted, _White was death, thank you very much_. He was pretty sure that the voice didn't belong to him, and it offered up, _How about I smack your face for being such a pissy little shit?_ So fine the voice belongs and he's arguing with himself which he supposed was about right for what has happened to him, maybe. Which was what, exactly?

Considering he don't remember his own gorram name, much less what exactly has happened that's pretty clear that it's shit... at least. So he's someplace. He's got life support. But his body does not hurt like he's been injured. Sick maybe. Injured no. He's being drugged. So is he in the slam again? Has he been before? He doesn't remember. Might do. He thinks that being in a Slam somewhere is more likely than being in a hospital, though. Kovan? 'Goll – their meds suck, they always make him sick. But at least he don't have to worry about the shit causing his lungs to rupture or his brain to physically turn to sludge. They usually don't use aspirin. Although there's something else in the chemicals dripping into his blood that weakens him, causing violent reactions. So what did he do to get himself caught by Kova?

Damn if he knows. They should tell him what he's being held for. Or he's gone crazy, finally. The cocky voice says to him, _No, it's everyone else that is crazy. Only I and Thete, and Rose, and Saritha, have it right, and most the rest of the 'Verse is loony_. Each name brings up a color, deep blue foam, golden glitter, calm clear shimmer... And there's a flash of intense otherworldly color, gold-green-rust. Someone wants him to hang on and to keep fighting.

OK. He can agree with that (hell he's thinking about himself in odd tenses. Definitely going nuts). Lovely._ Maybe try focusing on getting the hell away from these sick fucks before they decide to try testing aspirin on you, instead of getting yourself drugged before you get your eyes open?_

Only the buzzing increases and the white fades again. _Oh, yes... didn't even need to struggle that time -_

_OoOoOoOoO  
_

He came to in a cell. Confusion- but not hooked to anything- maybe a little better then the last time he woke up. Faint recall of being aware previously sparked in him only because he's got the shakes, freezing cold and shivering but sweating too. He's not sure where he is. Might be a space station or a ship, because the rumble from the engines make everything vibrate softly. Unless there's mining going on under this, which he doubts. There's no rhythm here of natural call from a planet spinning, and he'd be able to fell it there was. He curls up into a tight ball and shivers as the soup works it's way from his blood. He'll forget that they have a cell for him, until the very end. Remembering instead the times he's drugged. Because the cells are half safe, and the sleep he gets here heals all the internal damage that the Kovan-Skaro drugs are doing to his body. Time passes here, something inside him knows this, even if he's too muddled to get that fact. There's a hiss, one he thinks he knows, and just as he's going under again he remembers, they gas him so that he's passed out before they come to take him away. He'll figure out where the nozzles are, eventually.

_OoOoOoOoO_

Black faded to gray. The retching he's prepared for, managing to not get himself this time (taken him several attempts to miss himself, actually, so this is an improvement). He doesn't even think this time, just scoping out the place with his senses. The smell is sterile, chemical, medical. The surfaces he can feel under him are artificial, man-made polymers and metal. His ears ring with a buzz that he slowly realizes are machines, likely recording his every impulse. For some reason he though it was hot in here, in spite the clear fact that his mind registers the temperature at barely twenty degrees Celsius and he's shivering. Like a split personality the one side first agrees with the scientific observation then repeats the sensation of it being hot. That's not a normal human reaction.

_Ah, but you're not a normal human, are you? Of course not. If you were you wouldn't be here, fucking racked up like a science experiment for these chemical junkies, now would you?_

Just stop. Stop before I get knocked out again.

_Um, sure. - How long do you think it's been? Do you think the babe's been born yet_?

Hasn't even been conceived yet. I'm twenty-three, twenty-four years knocked into the past. What happens to me if I die here? What happens to Jon? Our babe? Oh – The emotions rose in his chest and threatened to spill out of his closed eyes

_Well, that was just lovely.._. The gray fades.

_OoOoOoOoO_

The cell again. He's shivering violently. It's weird. He's hot as can be, but can't stop shivering. He spans his arms across the small closet sized cell and braces himself off the floor, trying to use an obscure method for forcing his muscles to not cramp up. He sits this way for hours. They don't feed him. No. He's not on a normal diet. In fact he's supposed to be sleeping, because they think the drugs are enough to keep him unconscious. Only he's never needed that much sleep, and now he feels the need for even less. He hears the hiss of the gas this time and allows himself to slide to the floor.

_OoOoOoOoO_

Black to white, like a switch being thrown on. He jerks this time, the sudden bright and the horrible nausea driving him to being violently ill. In spite the fact that he's bound down he manages to project the stuff off to the right side, following it with a pained, high volume sound. He struggles to cover his eyes, but can't get his hands up. The near scream does not lessen. "Shut the fucking spots off, you stupid moron!" Unknown voice, male, youngish. Some distant grunting and the sound of heavy soled boots on tile... He is already back under before the the lights are switched off.

_OoOoOoOoO_

Cell. Night. Shivering. Nightmare. He misses – them. But who is he? He forces his body into a strengthening pose that is totally alien, unsure of where he's learned it but uncaring as to if he's seen doing it. The night passes. The gas floats down from above...

_OoOoOoOoO_

Black to soft gray. He's woozy, but not enough to lose the excuse for food they pump into his system. "Subject Six-Two-Seven. This is Doctor Snyder. Do you hear me?" He manages to jerk his head enough for his boneless neck to allow it to fall forward. "Good. You are currently interred at Psychological Restraint Station Q9, pending ID and treatment before you can be considered for release into the standard Kovan penal population. Do you understand?" What? He forced his eyes open and tried to make them focus on the thin man standing in front of him. "According to my reports you attacked a scientific research facility, destroyed years worth of valuable data, and threatened the lives of the Kovan elite. Your legal counsel refuses to be in the same room with you. Because of this you have determined to be criminally insane, unless I can prove otherwise."

He finds himself mumbling, "How about I save you the trouble and fuck you first? That's how you make your god-damned reports, you Kovan piece of slime." He's losing his fight against the approaching darkness, but he at least has the will to fight this time.

"Please up his dosage to double -" is the last thing he's aware of.

The cell again. Fairly sure this is a slam. He thinks he hears a restless guard. First time he's been aware of it. Tonight he forces himself higher in the cell, trying to figure out were the gas is entering the room from. Until he finds out more about this place he won't try to escape. Just on general. Snyder is the sort he needs to gut. Besides, he is not sure he's strong enough to pull off what he'll need to do to escape yet. He's already lying on the floor when the gas hisses into the room, and he focuses his ears on the sound trying to hone in on the source of it.

_OoOoOoOoO_

Black to gray again. Nausea, but slighter. Still hooked up to all the machines and crap. He'd been here – what? A month. Three weeks? He thought so at least. It was hard to remember with all the chemical cocktails that were being pumped into his blood. Seemed like an endless series of being woken and being put back under.

Although they switched his meds to something else last week in a effort to keep him restrained but alert. The new swill left him weak, twitchy. And when he triggered the old stuff the interactions between the two was awful. Not that he usually managed to not trigger it. He'd have to be a robot to not feel or think too much with as sensitive as the machines were to his biological changes.

He thought he remembered seeing a company logo someplace. He knew the medic in charge of his 'treatment' was Kovan, simply by the implant he had above his left eye, although it was less visible than most he'd spotted. He figured it was a military grade implant, and considering the rest of the tech he'd ID'ed was twenty-four years old, if not older, he figured he'd been jerked back in time. He wondered for a moment if Thete would be able to find him.

"Um, that must be a record, s-Six-Two-Seven. I do believe this medical battery is less than effective." The medic, Snyder, loomed over him where he was strapped to the table. The fellow was typically lean, rather tall, but like many Kovans, much stronger than he looked. Behind him his assistant offered him the official scanner and waited to see if he'd take it or if he'd just order a new regimen based on his 'educated hunch'. Dr. Snyder waved off the scanner. "Let's test this first. Raise him into a sitting position, please."

The table movement ticked off a wave of dizziness. The ex-ranger shook his head to clear it and mumbled, "_Aneekik o aneek ummk o obook o ahlk klhm means__._" Sometimes all he could come up with were insults.

Snyder frowned. "What was that?"

"'Fuck you. Fuck your mom, dad and family' – sir," his assistant said. "Arabic, actually. He's rather more inventive today."

"You are not helping yourself here, s-Six-Two-Seven."

The bronze skinned man thinks that maybe he's got enough motor control to flip Snyder off but discovers that no, he doesn't, "_Gun dan_..."

"That was 'fuck off' in Mandarin, s-"

"Oh, please." The Kovan medic waved the young fellow off, "He's used that one before."

"Yes, sir." The attendant finished raising the head of the bed and locked it into place. Snyder indicated the lock down table with a wave and turned away to pick up his supplies. The young man flipped it into place and said softly into the subject's ear, not unkindly, "If you'd stop fighting a little and give him something to work with maybe he'd let up on the drugs a bit." Amadak flicked his silver-flecked brown eyes over to look at the slim youth. The fellow's hazel eyes and black hair were his most striking features, and really he had the look about him of someone that just blended into the background and rather liked it that way. "Tell him your name," the kid suggested. "Or at least indicate you're not crazy." The bound man blinked slowly. "You have very unusual eyes."

He'd been told that before. Lots of times. Who was he again? What was his name? "_Hsah'__Mæ__-d__æ__ckt ..._" he breathed out the foreign word, musically. It flowed off his tongue and caught up parts of his vocal cords that he'd been slightly unaware of. "_a_ _C__èile – __Ṱhǝ-ss." _It might not be his 'name' but that was who he was. He couldn't remember his name.

"What did he say?"

"Um – I don't know, sir. I've never heard anything like it. Um – might be Greek at the end, and a form of Gaelic? Maybe. The first word could be Pashto, but there's some notes in it that are off. With as fluent in languages as the subject is, I'm guessing that the similarities are happenstance." The fellow scratched his head. "The analyzer is picking up harmonics that the human ear cannot hear, in both the first and last parts of the sentence. But the middle might be indicating marriage." Snyder gave the fellow a strange look. "I- um, asked him his name, sir."

"And you're sure he didn't tell you he'd fuck your wife on your marriage bed, or something?" the older Kovan said dryly.

"Pretty sure, yes." The fellow frowned. "If the first word is Pashto then it's a place name on Old Earth. A village. And if the last word was Greek then it's Theta Sigma. Significant in that the symbol had holy linkage. It represented the power of the sun, a warning of death, infinity, and the holy numbers of nine for the first and two hundred for the second." He took a breath to carry on the explanation but cut it off at the look Snyder was giving him. "Sorry sir."

Fairly much ignored for the moment, the subject let off a snort. Considering his command of English consisted of 'fuck' and 'fuck you' currently and most everything else he tried to say came out garbled beyond recognition he supposed it was good that he understood enough to be amused. Snyder looked down at him, "Well you seem more lucid, so we're going to try this." he placed a sheet of something like paper on the table and held up a soft pen like object with a strap attachment. It was meant for folks suffering nerve damage to help them hold it. The silver-flecked eyed man knew that his condition was from the drugs in his system, and that was all. Snyder picked up his hand and strapped the pen to it. "Do you know where you are, s-Six-Two-Seven? Can you show me where you are?"

Snyder expected the man to sketch the room. That would be the typical reaction, most folks took the question this way, particularly when under this battery of drugs. Instead the fellow got a look of concentration and proceeded to map out the entire station with rather sure strokes. Considering he'd been in deep freeze when he'd been admitted, and under heavy sedation ever since, this was far beyond anything Snyder expected. In fact, he doubted the guards, even those that had worked here for years, could make a more accurate map of the place. He then put an arrow pointing directly at the bed he was currently bound to. Those silver flecked orbs lifted off the paper with an unreadable expression, and he tried to crumple the paper up with his other hand, which had been loosened, but was still attached to the bed, not allowing him the option of being able to move fast enough to destroy the drawing. Snyder snatched it away before the subject could damage the expensive data film.

The subject reacted somewhat violently, grunting and struggling enough that it triggered an automatic adjustment to the chemical drip he was being fed. Like most times this made him ill, and he somehow managed to expel the vomit onto Snyder's footwear. The assistant looked away and rubbed his nose, blocking the smirk. He couldn't help it. Something in the standard Kovan subjugation serum caused this reaction every time it was administered to the bronze skinned man. And every time he managed to get Dr. Snyder's shoes with it. "Oh, ugg..." the doctor retreated to strip off the soiled loafers and change his pants. The younger fellow signaled for the automatic cleaning bots and offered the subject a squirt of water to rinse out his mouth. This too was a ritual of sorts, as the subject was too weakened to resist the offer of help and accepted the water and the container to spit into. Really they should look at the fellow's medical records and try to isolate whatever it was that made him ill.

"You know not to struggle. Every time you do it takes you hours to recover," the assistant said as the shakes started. He took the fellow's bio-readings and pulled the table away so he could add a cover to the feverish man.

The muscular fellow managed to get out one thing through his suddenly clattering teeth, "_Gun dan_..."

"Stop it. I'm trying to help you. Telling me to fuck off is not going to make points for your case." He removed the pen and tucked the listless quivering arm under the blanket. As he moved away he knew that the strange bronze toned man was watching his every move, no matter how drugged he was. Snyder came back into the room and looked at the form, now unmoving but for the tremor running through him. The assistant stepped in front of the doctor, "He's completely unable to control anything right now. Even the waste pumps have kicked in. He's not going to respond to you, so you might as well leave him be for a few hours, - sir."

"He's still breathing on his own?"

"Yes, although I still haven't been able to pin down how or why. His body functions practically shut down when he's subjected to the serum. Perhaps, if you don't want to kill him, you should try to isolate what makes his system react this way."

"Place him on life support, just in case. I'll see if I can't get clearance for it. Heaven knows, someone wants him kept alive," Snyder walked out.

The assistant frowned and turned to look back at the pleading silver flecked orbs. Something about this bothered the subject. "Just in case, alright. You are breathing and your readings are strong. I'll be right here." He knew that s627 was going to fight to retain awareness. He always did. He'd lose though. Eventually.

_OoOoOoOoO_

It was the tubes coming out that roused him. Didn't even get to go back to the cell this time. The blackness tried to retain her grip on his soul. He was tempted to let it, for a change. But then the sounds of hard soles clipped across the tiled floor and he remembered where and when he was, lashed down to a hard bed but still sitting up more than laying flat. "Back with the living, then?" Dr Snyder asked him. He forced his eyes open and tried to not express the agony from his sensitive sight to the bright lights here. Thete had told him, finally, that the nightvision he gained in Butcher Bay was natural. It was not human, no, but Gallifeyan. A product of the third type of cell, an octagon light receptor, that his eyes had in addition to rod and cone cells. More than likely he'd been forced to forget and the stress of the situation reversed some of the 'chameleon' effect placed on him to make him appear fully human. His natural vision, before he'd gotten his eyes shined, would have been far superior to anything humanity could come up with. And Thete had let him know how stupid he'd been. Now, even after the damage had been reversed, he still was saddled with hyper-photosensitive eyes, although he had more control than before. Remembering this, he willed them to adjust and they slowly did, revealing the stark white, gray, black, and sliver room. He felt Snyder's hot fingers on his eyelid forcing his eye open while he peered at it with a magnification tool, "Most unusual response."

"Get your shit-covered hands off me," he growled, "Fuckin' half-breed Kovan leech." This caused Snyder to jerk away in surprise. Amadak felt thoughts from the fellow flow into him, swirling about his brain like sewage. If only he could expel it like he did the drugs on occasion. "Fuck... They think _I'm_ a threat? You've got five ex-wives that left you for beating and raping them and they put you in charge?" He dissolved into hysterical laughter...until the drugs kicked in and he passed out.

_OoOoOoOoO_

Black to white... only there's something over his eyes this time, softening and filtering the light. Still on the table. Still no cell. "Now, now. Here -" the young kid tipped him so he can vomit into a bedpan this time. Then he let him rinse his mouth and even drink some water. This young man was not good or pure by any means. He's got ambition, drive. He wanted something but knew he'd catch more flies with sweets than with vinegar. "Time for your bath. Yes, that weekly ritual. But we've done this before, and you know that I've learned how to knock you out. So just be still and let me do my job, OK?"

He managed to get out, "Whatever."

"Good." The fellow cleaned him, changed the fittings for the waste pump and the feeding tubes, and he did not fight him. He touched more than just a washing would be proper for and made him feel even more soiled and dirty than he did before. Too hot, those fingers in his arse. Wrong on a level that he could not describe. He did not want someone besides his bonded touching him there. Even when the fingers were this warm they felt different. He realized it was because he was not mentally aware of what this man was thinking and really he didn't want to be. The kid, like most every time he'd done this before, turned putting the catheter back into his bladder into something sexual. That was wrong too. All fucking wrong. Still the ex-ranger did not fight the assistant. He couldn't see anything because of the cloth over his eyes, although he felt that the straps were off. There was a chance to make a break for it when the IV drip was removed to clean the fittings, but the kid put his hand on Amadak's left clavicle, right over _that_ spot and dug in with his fingers just enough to dim the bronze skinned man's vision from white to almost black. It was a warning. The ex-ranger stayed put. "Very good."

"Just get it fuckin' over with..."

"Um, I want to know what you saw about Snyder," the kid whispered in his ear. "Help me, and I'll help you, yes?"

This was different than the last three times where the kid was satisfied with jerking him off while telling him he should be grateful for the fact that someone allowed him some pleasure in this hellhole. Fuckin' sicko. But... He'd been kind, more so than Snyder, definitely more so than the guards. "Looking for dirt? You think I'm a reader, do you? And yet you risk touching me? Like playing with lava then, don't you?"

"Oh, yes. You realize that the good doctor is hardly sleeping after what you said to him."

"I didn't mention his first wife. She never left him. She can't. Is that what you're looking for?"

"Prove to me you are a reader."

Amadak took in a deep breath, "Guard just noticed the light is on. The door will open in 5.5 seconds." The kid stepped back and picked up the bathing supplies just as the door opened.

"Oh, sorry. Thought something was up, but it's just you. Catching up on yesterday's work still?"

"You know Dr Snyder won't, captain. I'm almost done here and I'll put him back in his holding cell. He's quite drugged still, so it's perfectly safe." The door closed. He waited for another heartbeat before he bounded to his feet in an effort to get away. He felt like he was moving through thick gel or against quicksand. The kid ducked and caught the bundle of nerves on his left collar bone. He dropped. "I thought we had an agreement."

Amadak felt the man lifting him back to the bed, "- _Fuck you_."

"Maybe I will. Maybe I won't," the assistant hooked the lines back up and started the IV drip again. The chemicals along with the overload from the nerve impulses drag him into the black again.

_OoOoOoOoO_

Black to gray. Silence. He was strapped down but alone. Not in the holding cell. They must not trust this new chemical cocktail they have him on then. He listened to the machines beep and modulated his bio-rhythms to match those of his unawakened state. As long as they think he was just having dreams they would leave him be. He tried to reach across time and space to his Thete. He tried to remember who he was, what name he went by, why he was here... It was not Thete that brushed across his shattered mind, but something else. It was a song and it healed him. Verity. His mind knew what this was. _Verity_. She told him his name was Richard. Richard B. Riddick. He must tell his captors his name so she can find him. Because right now she cannot. They are not putting his name on his records. She was looking for him. They all were.

He knew then that he must tell Snyder his name, at least. He must make him think he was breaking, so that the name was believed. Verity sang to him some more, slowly lulling him into a restful healing sleep. Deep healing trance. Repairing the damage that the drugs from Skaro were doing to his system. He was so very glad they didn't capture Thete. These chemicals would have killed Thete already, even without the parasite and the pregnancy.

Time passed. He could almost ignore the discomfort of the feeding tube and the waste pump. The young one came into the room first and removed the tube. A different drug was being tested, apparently. He heard the bottle being fiddled with and opened his eyes, allowing the machines to detect that he was awake. "What you after, huh? Snyder's bed? His office? What? He'd take you, you know... but he's awful hard on his lovers and wives. Maybe you could do better."

"It's business. Just a career step." The kid didn't even look at him.

He thought about it, "Discredit? Looking for proof? Ain't gonna happen. He's good at covering his tracks. Better to try blackmail. His career hangs on keeping me here. His boss is under heavy pressure to find out somethin' and can't do it unless I crack."

"What is he looking for?"

"I don't know. Hell, I don't even know where where I fuckin' am or how long I've been here." This made the kid stop and look at him, the new drug not quite fed into the line yet. "What is that new shit?"

"Subsalicylate in combination with bismuth, to help with the vomiting."

"Don't. Please don't. I can't have anything Salicylate related. It will cause bleeding in my lungs and break down my nerve cells, leading to a stroke."

The assistant raised an eyebrow at him, "That would be – almost alien – wouldn't it?"

"At least test a fucking blood sample before you toss aside what I'm telling you," he pleaded. This suggestion spurred action. The blood was drawn and tested in combination with the drug. The assistant thumbed the stuff open and drained it out in the sink.

"We won't tell Snyder, OK? I'll keep the salicylic acid compounds away from you. You will help me?"

Amadak nodded, "You have my word."

"And I suppose the Methyl salicylate, or wintergreen mouthwash is out of the question too?" He glanced over at the scowl the bronze skinned man wore, "Of course that's a stupid question, isn't it? Well, Dr Snyder won't care, one way or the other. And personally I dislike the smell so I've been giving you different anyhow. Think you can behave? If so I'll adjust the restraint serum."

"And if not?" The fellow gave him a chilling smile. "Fine. I want to talk to Snyder anyhow. I remembered something."

Snyder eventually came in and was surprised to see that he was lucid and calm. "The new chemical battery appears to be working." He looked at the assistant. "Any problems."

"No sir. Not even bad language today."

Snyder did not see the look that passed between the ambitious young male medic and the bronze skinned man strapped to the bed as he turned to place another film on the restraining table and strap the pen back into one bronze hand. "I want you to draw what you see."

"See? Like what? The room?"

"If you want."

"None of that s627 s-stuff? Give up on my responding to a number, Doc?" The brown with silver flecked eyed man was scribbling on the paper without being fully aware of it.

Snyder did not stop him, "That's correct. Do you have a first name?"

"Richie. UM... Dickie? no. Richard. - Rich. Red? Smith? no. Richard B. Riddick. Yeah. It's Richard." he glanced at the paper and saw lines of blood. "This should be sanguine, you know? Red on white. Blood and death." He realized then that whatever they were giving him kept him talking, even when it degenerated into babble that made no sense. "Asian cultures often use white as a death color, just like Allied Planets does. Kova prefers Black don't it? Black of space, that's your death."

"Richard, what are you drawing?"

He answered without thinking, "The future."


	6. Chapter 6

**Doctor Who and the Threads of Time**

A/N: _Got a job doing freelance writing... really cuts into my time, but hey, I'm being paid. Anyway... Here is the next part and I thank my readers for hanging in there. _**  
**

_Part six_: Second Doctor's TARDIS, Arrival on St. Albans Space Bazaar, Late October 2518.

Jamie opened his eyes to a mellowly lit, almost golden toned light. He knew the TARDIS had control over everything, every aspect of her insides, just about. The Doctor exerted some control when necessary, although the small fellow usually did not. The light was soft and slightly glittery. It reminded him of – something, maybe something not exactly physical, maybe something magical? So much of things around him often seemed to boarder on the witching, the fantastic, the unexplainable... that he stopped questioning it long ago. Even the Doctor's somewhat frightening ability to tell what might happen (which was often enough that in his time the fellow would've been burnt for speaking with the devil), or to influence those around him had become things he accepted.

And it helped that the Doctor had taken him to times before his own, and times after, and had taught him in Alexandra about 'primitive' technology that would make him seem a genius in his own day. It helped that he knew Egyptian, and Latin, and Greek and Gallifreyan letters, if not those of his own tongue. It helped that he was learning maths and that the Doctor had been willing to explain how Cyberman and computers, and all the advanced stuff was nothing more than a series of very fast (extremely so) on and off impulses, like opening and closing a door. The only miracle involved in such things was Time. And although stuff seemed smarter than he, the Doctor told him flat out that no, such things only understood 'yes' and 'no' and that in reality they were extremely stupid.

Of course this did not include the Doctor's ship. She was living. As alive as any of those that lived within her. And perhaps she'd be more happy filled with life, because she'd been – trained, conditioned, tamed? - that way and that was the way most TARDIS were. However, she'd learned to be happy with her pilot and his unusual choices. She'd come to love those few he accepted, even if they didn't stay with them long. Jamie might be an exception, but then even Susan hadn't stayed. The Scotsman found his thoughts drifting over the ideas and worries and strands of song and ribbons of complex math he could not understand yet and simply accepted it all.

The faint hum of Verity in the background flowed like a ocean current or a soft breeze through his mind, easy and peaceful. The sensation of being hurt and rejected, lost and confused, had fled with the intense togetherness and the open approval that Jamie and enfolded her with. It helped that her pilot trusted his human so deeply that what the piper felt was often explored, pulled apart, analyzed, twisted and examined before he too adopted it as though it had been his idea in the first place. The open wound that had festered for so long between her and Thete was closed fast although the pair still had much in the way of memories to share. That they might be 'talking' about him on a level he was not part of didn't bother Jamie in the least. He was perfectly content to just lie here, snuggled up to his twin-hearted mate, protecting his back, so to speak, although there was really nothing that he needed protecting from inside his own ship, and just letting the Time Lord and TARDIS catch up after years of separation.

Although he was on the floor, sticky and a little slick in parts of him, smelling of sex, definitely, everything about how he felt was comfortable. The buzz in his mind was just enough to not fully allow himself to dwell on the physical sensations of his body unless he really tried. The cool form in front of him was relaxed with a slow steady ebb and flow to his body's rhythms, not quite laggard enough to indicate sleep. It was more of a sign of meditation, he supposed. Where they touched he felt a slippery sensation that lingered. He always thought his skin was softer where it settled in contact with Thete's for a long period of time. As though he'd been oiled, even. He shifted the arm under the other man until he located his hand and curled their fingers together. Jamie was always amazed by how light the Doctor felt. It was as though the gent as bones more suited to a bird, although likely much stronger. Thete's hand slowly squeezed a bit and relaxed.

He felt the flush of vivid yet mellow rusty brown-red-pink though his mind. He was pretty sure that was the Doctor's way of admitting he was his life's blood, his heart, his love. The other fellow had offered, more than once, to say the words and Jamie had always insisted that this shared feeling/color was more than enough. Another sensation washed through him at that, one like being in a light spring breeze, although it was more mental then physical. Verity sharing that she too loves him. He's overwhelmed with the feelings and can do nothing but just experience them for a very long time. It was only when he opened his eyes again that he realized that he'd closed them in the first place. He must wonder how fate contrived to put him here, with this pair of completely alien but absolutely fantastic beings. How lucky it all is that he stayed behind when the boat left.

The TARDIS added a physical element to balance the emotional one, starting a slight vibration that was almost like a cat's purr. She was relieved when the Scot smiled at it and closed his eyes once more. She'd never dared to be this close to a human mind before and was very worried that she'd hurt him. But so far, aside from his expression of tears she'd not sensed distress from him. He is her Thete's Tyro, destined to be far more than a mere human. She cannot afford to hurt him or drive him away. With her bonds forged so tightly with her pilot now the floodgates on their power was more open than his people will be happy with, and they will need Jamie's moral compass and sense of right and wrong, his heart and his soul, if they are to keep from becoming a vengeful God. Jamie was their ground, even as they are the Oncoming Storm. The darkness he'd/they'd been running from was himself, herself, themselves... joined.

Even as she was aware of this, so was Thete. He shared his fear with her that Jamie will die long before he should, because of the excess energy he'd flooded the lad with. They will need to take drastic measures to save him, because there was no way they can survive without Jamie at their side. Not now that they have formed this unique triplicate bond with him. Not if they truly accept the destiny that hovers in their future. She soothed his mind, as they have Time. Their's was a special thing, and none of his people will be able to pull them apart. Someday they will all see and understand what Rassilon did. Someday they will know the truth and it will be terrible. But the darkness was lifetimes off, and he must live now, forging his own net to catch him when the end comes. Because it will, it must. He drew her back into the vortex, away from their visions of the future. She flew with him, dropping her cares. It was enough that he knew and understood.

Jamie felt them as they flutter against his mind, sharing some concern or another. He let them worry a bit and then knew they would work it out as they drift back into a state of mental bliss and union. He sighed and smiled. It was so good to be back here, home. In the TARDIS. Safe. The dark feelings of his last fortnight have eased back into the realm of a bad memory, still there but no longer important. He took a breath of the honey-scented air and then pushed his face against the cool shoulder closest to his face, placing an open mouthed kiss on the sweetened skin before licking it much as a child might a sweet. The other man was not mentally there, he knew. He could feel the TARDIS song whispering over his mind and thrumming against their bond.

That didn't stop his body from wanting to try to go another round, however. If he could. He was young enough to do this more than once or twice, or four times even, after all. He nibbled on the shoulder he'd been licking as the sensation of desire caused him to harden again. He wouldn't do anything until the dark haired man indicated he was aware of him though, no matter how much he wanted to. Not with the memories from that white room still hovering about his awareness. Thete might have forgiven him for it, but he had yet to forgive himself. He focused on the feel of the cool skin and slight oily slide between warm and cool as he shifts his body against the other one, not trying to get more comfort or anything, just to snuggle and to experience the sensation of skin on skin. He was curled around his Thete, swathed in comfortable air, slightly thickened he thought, that was not to hot nor too cold. The soft felted wool of his kilt was tangled up under them, providing some padding from the floor, which was curiously enough rather more cushy then he remembered it being.

The slow flutter of the Doctor's pulse through his body increased a fraction as the psychic impulses soaked into him. The feel of Jamie's heat was so very welcome. He'd missed the lad more over the last two weeks than he'd ever dare admit if asked outright. There were times he though he'd die from the drugs and felt most upset that he'd not get to experience the boy's touch again. That was his nightmare, even more than being forced to mate with an Androgum, even more than having his genes teased apart while someone looked for something that was not fully possible to find. Having him back, now, the Doctor couldn't imagine denying him. Even as his mind flits over the vortex his body ached for the lad to crawl inside him once more, filling his core, his soul, his heart and mind with the lava-intense heat and flare of life. The strong beat of a human heart, echoed in his belly, the life they have created together because they are too powerful to simply remain as a unit of two, thrills and horrifies him. The danger of being caught here was more than he could stand sometimes. Before he went back to pick up Victoria he _must_ go to Karn and he _would_ plead with them for protection, not only for himself but for Jamie and their child. He simply must do. He silently shifted his body to allow the piper's still smoothed hardness to slide into the cool of him and just barely kept from dragging the still too frail human mind into the vortex with him when the invitation was taken with a smooth thrust.

Jamie's reaction tumbled into his/her/their mind like a red hot volcanic rock hitting the ocean. It created not only steam but lightening arcs of psychic energy through her awareness. So much power. She keened and trilled with the intensity of it, the pleasure of it, the sheer wonder that her pilot has decided to share this with her, still. He doesn't have to. He could close his mind off to her. But he did not, instead asking her to help shield Jamie's mind against the forces that would drive him mad and to feel this incredible thing, this_ lovemaking_, with him. She cannot deny him. Verity cannot believe that this was what humans feel when they copulate. If it was then how do the short-lived creatures get anything done? She felt his amusement too. He'd often wondered the same thing.

They do not know how much time pases. It does not matter. Minutes, hours, days? The count of it lost meaning to them in this state of rapture. Jamie felt the delight of being in his own skin and in Thete's at the same time, and then slowly there wa+s another physical sensation, another body. It is her, he knows, Verity sharing what she can with them the same way they are with her. Faint whispered song flowed through his mind, singing of more things than he could catch at once, filling him with a sense of majesty and awe. If he just existed he could feel the turn of space around him, the dance of the stars, the whisper of time over his/her/their extra-dimensional physical form, the might of eternal power that simply was. They were all entwined within each other, mentally and physically.

Jamie knew that the song blocked his mind from the trip that the Doctor and Verity were taking. He knew, too, that he'd not survive such a thing. His mind was too small and too limited to cope with it. That was OK. He had more than enough to experience as it was. He did find it very interesting, however, that the two more advanced beings reach a level and stopped there, and that it was him, the primitive one, that showed them how to reach higher, how to climb to the top and then explode into the universe as energy without bound, to climax in release before coming back into their individual existences. Interesting and somewhat scary. They trusted him to do this to/for them, to carry them over the brink and keep them from shattering permanently. Verity mentally stroked him with feelings of fondness and compassion, after. She was breathless, golden, and mellow... She'd never felt anything like it before. He took in a deep gulp of air and hugged the smaller man tucked back into him, feeling the colder skin dampened with a sweet honeyed sheen. The Doctor barely moved, just the lightest of wiggles and the slight shift of his breathing. Jamie knew he'd been mentally away, recovering from the experience in his own way.

The piper ran his warm fingers down and rested his hand over the Doctor's lower stomach, and listened as the faint echoes of an extra heart filtered into his awareness. He'd thought he had heard it, before. So many times he'd caught the whisper of it, like a faint echo that the other man had muffled in his awareness. He'd not dared to ask what it was, that wispy thread of shimmer that seemed to tendril towards him like the strands of a spiderweb in a fog. Was this what he thought it was? A life they created together? If so, how? Why hide it? Was Thete fearful of rejection? Jamie knew he'd never willingly let this go. He knew it from his dreams. He knew it from his heart. Even before he was sure that it might be real, he'd known. Dreams of that quivering glow, always, a tiny pulsing light. He'd struggled to get to it, to cup it in his hands and protect it, but always there had been something blocking him keeping him from reaching it in time to save it. Usually when he woke, Thete was there though. He'd put the dream away as some odd bit of insecurity. Now he wondered if perhaps he'd known already. '_Ar__ leanabh__, Thete_?' he finally ventured to ask mentally once he was sure that the sensation was not going to fizzle on him yet again. Oh how he hoped it was - something so wondrous - that he barely breathed as he waited.

The dark-haired cool fellow swallowed, suddenly shivering from nerves. He expected Jamie to jerk away from him, to spurn him for being less than a male. For his aberration. He expected rejection. Instead the piper seemed to hold him tighter as though he might bolt, curling his legs over him, gently, soothingly trying to quiet him, to keep him there. He didn't deserve such understanding, such a loving person like Jamie holding him like he was so precious. Not with what he had the power to do. Not with the fate that loomed before him. But then, this was the Scot's choice. And it was clear that the lad decided to stay. He let out the breath he'd been holding and lowered his hand to settle over the human one that rested against his stomach, right over the forming child.

He could feel the piper waiting, calmly, expectantly. Slowly he relaxed again. He gave the hand under his a grateful squeeze. The emotions he was swimming through were still so strong that the Time Lord found himself unable to mentally or verbally respond. But Jamie was taking everything very sedately, even the connection with Verity. Maybe it was because he didn't realize how permanent the bonds would be now. Maybe it was because he'd seen them already in the older version of the ship. Maybe he'd underestimated the lad. He felt a hot moist kiss on his shoulder, followed by Jamie's husky whisper, "Mo Cèile? Ar leanabh, seadh? Thete?" The entire way the Scot was holding him became protective, as he waited for an answer to his question.

Tears slipped between black lashes, the emotions finally reaching a breaking point. It wasn't quite how he expected it to be broached. He hadn't, in all his wishes, dared hope that Jamie would respond with this fierce, very tender, compassion. Additionally, he expected the TARDIS to translate the words being spoken and she wasn't. But then – he knew what Jamie was asking him. Our baby, yes? It would have been easier if the lad had chosen to ask if it was his, not theirs. But impossibly the perceptive piper must have already realized that the trouble lie not in his own heart. Thete was scared to make the admission, but he knew that if they were to get help from the Sisterhood he'd have to. After quietly releasing the pent up feelings and letting Jamie's warmth soak into him, he whispered, "Yes."

The human rippled almost, bubbling with an emotion that was shocking in it's intensity, totally positive, but unlike anything the Doctor had ever felt from another. There was a swell of self-pride there, a sense of wondrous disbelief and acceptance rolled together with this incredible need to grip onto the moment with both hands and never let go. Impossibly, in spite the danger that the situation placed them both in, Jamie was ecstatically happy. And frozen with shock. Determined to never leave him, and fearful he might not be given the choice. He can tell that the lad isn't sure how it was possible, or how it happened because such things weren't meant to happen between two men, but then he knew Thete was not human. Alternatively, the how didn't matter so much, as long as it was theirs. Then he felt Jamie's mind go placid and the full weight of the fact that the lad loved him settled on his awareness.

He made a huffing sound, but cannot stop the tears that return. He needed to explain this to the lad, to his bonded, so that he understood the long hard road that still faced them, "It's not supposed to be possible, not just because we're both male. Nature has odd ways of evolving species to work around limitations set on them by environment." He was babbling and can't stop once he started. But at least most of it Jamie seemed to understand enough to not interrupt him, "It's rather a common mutation, in the era that my _mother_ comes from. Well, that's misleading. She contributed genetic material -human traits- to my formation, but could not carry the pregnancy to term. Somehow she and her Time Lord lover - my father, I suppose - were able to use his House loom to create me."

"Loom?"

The Doctor shifted his head in a nod, "It's – like artificial parents, almost. My people make reproduction needlessly complicated, I'm afraid."

Jamie nuzzled the pale skin, "So you have some human traits? But why does that make what has happened not possible?"

He let off a light laugh, "Actually it's the human blood makes it very possible. That contribution of non-Gallifreyan material made me fertile, and I'm not supposed to be."

"Eh?" the piper shifted to allow him to roll onto his back so that he was looking up into his slightly confused greenish-blue eyes.

He sighed and cupped Jamie's cheek in one hand, "It goes back to the Old Times. For generations Time Lords and the Houses they come from have been sterile. That's why the looms were created, in fact. Even the non-Time Lord higher Gallifreyan people have traditionally had a very low birth rate. It's been over a thousand years since a child has been born on my native soil. Then again, we live a very long time. Six thousand years is considered short lived." He never thought this would be painful, trying to explain to someone. He supposed he could brush it off but he was seriously thinking of breaking even greater laws to keep Jamie alive, and he'd have to know this information in order to make a choice about it that would hold up under cross-examination. "There are legends I'll tell you later, if you want."

The piper kissed his palm and stroked hot fingers over Thete's cheek, "So you're saying that your people use these looms and don't have children?"

"Not those that live by the civilized laws there, at least. The higher classes are instructed that such physical things are too close to animal behavior. It's not socially acceptable. And it's not legal either. Besides the point that Time Lords are psychic and derived from a highly evolved mass mind, we are not supposed to form deep abiding attachments to each other or beings considered 'lesser'. Besides the point that even if we do form those attachments of physical relations, we are unable to produce children, there are laws against it. We're a psychic people isolated from our true nature... and - That's why it worked." He blinked. "We _Bonded_. The laws are meant to keep Time Lords sterile and unchanging. Our bond triggered my fertility." He let off an amazed laugh. "Broken every taboo in the ancient writ of Rassilon, only to make the greatest discovery of the age, Jamie. The Pythia didn't curse us. We cursed ourselves."

Jamie worked the kilt out a bit so that he could wrap it around them both, suddenly feeling the need to cocoon. This made Thete shift and almost curl into a ball. He was feeling an odd mixture of awe and fear, terror and triumph, joy and agony, excitement and dread. Whatever this discovery was, for his alien lover it was major, like finding some part of God, or uncovering a great mystery that might rock the foundations of his world. It was huge. The piper spooned tightly against him, pulling the wool around them and catching the edges with his toes. "Mo Gaolach Cèile," he whispered into the other man's ear.

This made the Doctor smile slightly even though he was really on the brink of tears once more. Part of his rapid emotional switch had to be the pregnancy. He swallowed and sighed. "If we caught, like this – well, it will be bad." The Scot hissed a curse that the TARDIS refused to even touch to translate. "There's one possibility. I've got a gift. The gift of Sight. I can go to a place where the Pythia, the Sisterhood of the Flame, settled and maybe, because of how I am right now, they will extend their protection to us. They might not, of course. They might kill us both. But I don't see any other way."

"An' if you don't?" The Scotsman asked. Thete shook his head. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't seek help through Karn now. It was too bleak, that future. "So these Pythia, this Sisterhood, are they like your people?"

The Doctor smiled, "They were. They used to rule Gallifery. I know you think the Sight is a power to not be trusted, Jamie. Many Time Lords would agree with you. But it's saved me before. I suspect it will save us again." The lad hugged him. He got the impression that the piper did not care. "As long as I have you, I'm safe," he whispered. He wasn't sure how long they laid there, after that. Really as long as they were in the vortex it didn't matter. Jamie was in no hurry to let go of him. For a very long time, he was in no hurry to be released either. But Verity slowly intruded on his awareness, warning him that they were going to land soon and that if they wanted to shower or do any more of what they've been doing that they would have to get up off the floor and put her into park, or something. As long as they got off the floor because she wanted to clean up the space and couldn't with them sprawled in the middle of it.

This made Jamie let off a laugh, "She always this bossy?"

The Doctor twisted and curled his legs in Jamie's, "'Fraid so. The way she's always been, although I suppose I deserve it most times." He kissed the soft lips and allowed himself to fall into the piper's spell for a bit. The lad took full advantage, although it left the with rather more of a mess than before. Verity tried changing the temperature to get them into the shower before they managed to rouse themselves to indulge again. The salty scented stuff apparently was a bit more uncomfortable than the sweet so it didn't take much convincing. Her pilot laughingly clambered to his feet, tugging Jamie up as well, "All right, all right... We'll stop, for now." She gave him the feeling of a push, rather playful, but a push all the same. "Put yourself in park, Luv. Come on Jamie. A shower and fresh clothes is a wonderful idea." The TARDIS tinkled with amusement at them as the wandered off, completely nude and holding hands, to the bathing area. She whisked away the rest of their clothing, cleaning up the control room. Her pilot might feel maudlin about the situation but she definitely did not. The only issue she could see in the future would be Victoria's reaction to them if they persisted in wandering about without their clothing.

Although her pilot told her to delay landing something about the final location programed in by 'Fred' made her materialize before going into idle. She was here, and it felt like she needed to be here. Then someone called her name, someone she knew. Someone outside... but he was still inside. A closer look at the situation revealed an older version of herself, much like she'd run into before in Seville. Difference was, this version of herself was _budding. _She bubbled with delight. Someday her Doctor really would give her everything. She would evolve. A shiver ran through her. She did not need Mother. In deed and thought all she required was her Thete, and her Jamie, and all those that he would chose to connect with, and they would lift her up and make her more than just a machine, more than just a metallic organic brain, more than a TTC. They would complete her, and she them. All she had to do was protect them now, make sure they were not caught, keep them safe... Heal Jamie before the energy inside him caused too much damage. She needed the Retro-DNA serum or Elixir of Life.

The Doctor, while in the shower, asked her to begin disconnecting the remote coupling. She'd be glad to be rid of it. It had a secondary function that would allow another with knowledge of the correct summons to control her and she didn't trust anyone but the Doctor with that sort of power. Normally it would take a week to get the thing loosened, but she'd been working on it the entire time she'd been in the vortex, keeping it from becoming fully integrated. Besides, with the bond they now had he or Jamie could call her across time and space without a remote. Although she knew that she had a lot of changing to do, a massive amount of altering to survive the upcoming events she also knew that her Thete had the mental power to make those changes. That was fine. She -they- would do what needed to be done.

The Doctor and Jamie emerged back into the control room sometime later dressed in what she knew was typical for them. Jamie had once more opted for a soft knit and a tailored style of a kilt, more modern than he'd worn in his own time. Her pilot looked as he normally did, although his coat was one with a slight pattern to it for a change, and his pants more of a plaid than a herringbone. She reminded the Doctor to remove the part he'd asked for. It took him just a few moments to get the panel open, take the part out and then get her started healing whatever damage that she needed to address. He placed the part in his pocket and then took careful readings about where they were. After a moment's thought he marched back to the proper dispenser and got them stacks of the correct monies for this location and era. This was one stop where he didn't want to be caught without currency. "Bits, UD's, Platinum, Credits... They call the medium of exchange here by a lot of different things. The Bits are the smallest. The UD's and Platinum are the largest, but that fully depends on the vendor. Try to use what they are asking you for, if possible. Otherwise you'll end up paying more than you should."

"Doctor," Jamie put a hand on his arm, "I'm not gonna go wanderin' off." The dark haired man grinned at him. "Where and when are we?"

"It's a space station, but a commercial one. It's 2518. Rather a good year. There's a number of human colonies that have connections with each other here. I think you'll find that we blend in very well, all things considering."

"Aye. You nervous?"

The Time Lord shook his head, "No. Well... Yes. We're here to meet 'Fred' and I still don't trust her. It's possible that there will be an ambush waiting for us here." He paused a moment. "Wait... Jamie, Here." He handed the Scot a TARDIS key. "I should have given you one before. Wear it around your neck, it will help you connect with Verity, and me, should you need to." Jamie kissed him and slipped the key around his neck, tucking it into his shirt. "Right. Let's do this so we can get to Karn." And with that the Doctor opened the doors.

They stepped through into a darkened homely place, clean but cluttered. Very human. The Doctor locked the door of his ship as Jamie took the place in, acting as their eyes. There was no sign of Fred. He'd really been hoping to spot her right off. Behind him Thete straightened up and turned to scan off to the side, placing a hand on the piper's shoulder as he did so. Slightly off to the side someone was barking a spiel about alien life and sharing the secret for six Bits to a mixed crowd that seemed rather more interested in the young woman selling bundles of dried herbs from a rolling cart of some kind. Separated from this by a bit of a hole in the floor was another woman selling drinks off a tray. Drinks that look rather too solid to be liquid. Crowds of folk even more oddly dressed than the Doctor and himself move and mingle. The ebb and flow of languages wash over them, notes of music, more distant vendors calling their wares or services acting as highlights to the general murmur. It quite reminds them both of the bazaar in Alexandra although it's much darker and definitely inside. Jamie frowns, "I don't see her."

"This is a large place, she could be anywhere. Lets wander about but stay near the TARDIS in case she locates who she's looking for by that."

"Alright Doctor," the piper agreed but was not happy about it. He could understand the Scot's position. Most times in a strange place they ended up running for their lives, in a cell somewhere, fighting off Cybermen or Daleks... He understood that Jamie was not too thrilled about being on another space station, considering what happened on the last one. But there shouldn't be aliens here, or alien forces, or even cyborgs, at least not like the Cybermen sort of cyborgs. It should be safe enough here. They wandered through the upper floor and slowly became involved in the local color, relaxing slightly as nothing jumped out at them, shot at them, threatened to eat them, or even looked oddly at them. Jamie exclaimed over some of the different things, and the Doctor bought him a few odds and ends. A new dirk, more futuristic than the lad had lost, a nice chain for the key (better than a leather thong), some soft fake fleece that would make a nice blanket, a watch that was a lot more than a watch (and he could make it do even more than it was designed to do too), and Jamie insisted that he also buy one for himself.

They were looking at a clothing seller's wares, as there were some nice shirts and such on the racks, when a young woman cleared her throat from the other side of a display. "You came out of a blue crate marked 'police public call box' and are called 'Doctor', correct?"

Thete looked over at the brown haired lass, "Possibly." She was muscular, although young. Slightly greasy, as though she spent most of her time working with technology and really couldn't be bothered much to wash. Her openly worn weapons indicated she was a mercenary, and likely had the clearance to use said carried weapons if she needed to. Then again, almost everyone here had at least a gun. They'd passed a number of weapon sellers and no one raised a fuss about his purchase of a dirk.

"If you are not then I'll just go away and we'll pretend we never spoke."

"And if I am?"

She tilted her head at him, "Then there's someone you've been looking for, and I've got a package for you."

The two men looked at each other, then back at her. "Just who are you?" the younger one demanded.

"No-one important," she made a motion and the vertebrae in her neck cracked. "So are you or aren't you? 'Cuz my ship is leaving and I'm not staying here any longer than I have to."

"Well, 'No-one Important', I rather don't trust strangers these days," the odd little man said.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh for Fuck's sake! It's Eve. Eve Logan. OK? You don't know me, never met me before, likely don't stand a chance of ever meeting me again. I've got to know if you are the Doctor with a blue crate that reads -"

He cut her off at that point, "Yes. Yes I am."

"Fine," she slapped a small compact data storage device into his hand. "Oh, by the way, if you ain't the Doctor this won't work for you. The Kovan's got it keyed to certain impulses – brain waves – and if it ticks a lock then it will only work for you so you can't sell it." she glanced at her wrist. "Gotta blaze. Nice doin' time with you. Hope you find your man." with that she spun away and faded into the crowd.

After she was out of sight Jamie said, "What'd she mean 'keyed to certain impulses'?"

"I'm the only one that it will work for. As soon as I try to hand it off to anyone else it will stop functioning, perhaps in some very dramatic way."

Jamie glanced off the last direction the mysterious woman was seen in the throng and frowned, "Somethin' about her chills my bones, mo cèile..." The Doctor finds that he's inclined to agree. However, they are rather stuck at the moment. He still must find Fred. And then he needs to figure out what exactly this data device has on it and who he was meant to be looking for. He sure hoped it wasn't another one of the blond Time Lady's tricks.


	7. Chapter 7

**Doctor Who and the Threads of Time**

_Part Seven_: St. Albans Space Bazaar, Late October 2518.

Having gotten the annoying time line-crossing Time Lady to flee off to whatever meddling she was bound to be up to, the post-War Doctor marched into the room where he was to meet one William J. Johns. Johns was, still, a merc. In this case the fact that the ex-morphine addict had remained a merc, at least part time, proved to be to the Doctor's advantage because the fellow was able to get his grubby paws on intel that other sources had not been able to turn up. What surprised 'Jon Smythe' was the fact that ex-docking pilot, Carolyn Fry, had stayed with Bill in the past few months, or rather nearly a year, since he'd left them on Helion Prime. He had little intention of hiding from them that he and Richard had been living here, in Blue Sun space, dating back to the vary day that the Hunter-Gratzner set off from Persephone. Although explaining his current state might take some doing...

The redhead was not in immediate view, but the blond ex-docking pilot rushed up to him and hugged both he and Jacob before he could put up any sort of resistance. Although she hated cryo with a passion, she'd come this way, on her claim money, with Johns, because Alliance shipping had paid off her debts to the Company when she sued them for how the maintenance on her previous ship had been handled. The New Meccan courts had listened to her, Johns, Imam, and young Ali and given them a very nice settlement for wrongful deaths and other hardships. On top of this she won a disability suit claiming that she could no longer work a Ghost run after the crash. Johns promised that once they settled down they'd never go into cryo again. That was the only reason she'd been able to get into the sleeper tube to begin with this time.

She stepped away from the Doctor, and looked over Jacob again, "Oh my God! Look at you!" the woman exclaimed to the boy, "Jack, you're growing like a weed."

"Hah, am not." Jacob replied, "Da just doesn't want you to see the baby bump, which is, ironically, huge."

"What?" Carolyn then took a long look at the Doctor himself, noticing his haggard appearance, this shortened hair (not that it had ever been long to begin with), and his swollen middle. "Doctor! Sit down before you fall down," she guided him into a chair then fussed over him, brushing her hands over his very short and fine hair (he'd pretty much given up on it growing in until after the babe was out of him, seeing as it was falling out faster than it was coming in) and pretty much acting like a mother hen on a favored chick. She ignored the annoyed expression much as Kaylee might. This made Jacob snicker.

The Doctor put up with this for as long as he could then quickly caught her hands, "'m fine, OK? It's not like I'm gonna have this baby for a few weeks yet, so stop fussin'." He looked about for Johns, sighed at the fact that the merc was not there and looked at Book, "Can you go find Johns for me please, Shepherd. He's got to be here close by." Carolyn got a hand free and put it on his swollen middle just to make sure it was in fact a baby in there and not a beach ball. She grinned at the kick she got for the trouble. "Oi, cut that out, child."

Book didn't want to go, but he had seen images of Marshal Johns and knew who he was. The Doctor was with friends so he figured the best thing to do was to locate the redheaded man so that the situation they were here to meet for could be taken care of. He'd personally feel much better once Jon was back on Serenity, where there were medical supplies that were set up to not produce any allergic reactions that might kill him. This in mind the priest agreed and left the room.

Fry was almost petting him, and definitely going into baby-talk as she cooed at his belly. He wagged a finger at Jacob and then reached a hand to him. The boy said, "Why to all women that realize you're – well, you know – go all funny?"

"It's a girl thing, Jack. How many guys do you think we see that are pregnant. Besides you should see how we treat each other," she replied to him as the Doctor moved her hand to another spot so that the babe would kick or punch elsewhere. She knelt down and got her other hand free. "How has your back been doing, having problems sleeping?"

Jon rolled his eyes, "I said 'I'm fine' which means – I'm fine. Except for Richard being gone and my being infected with the parasite still, and worried that it's going to get out of the tiny part of my brain it's corned in and move into the babe. Please stop fussing." She sighed and nodded. "What you been up to, Carolyn?"

She shook her head and bit her lip, "Not as much as you have been, clearly. You having a boy or a girl?"

"There's an overwhelming chance it's a boy, like ninety-nine-point-nine percent or so. But... I've not wanted to know for sure, and River keeps saying it's a girl. Rich told me he didn't care either way."

"Ah. Want my not-so-professional-opinion?"

He smiled at her, "OK, sure."

Carolyn closed her eyes and thought a moment. Then she looked up at him, "I'm seeing blond hair. But I couldn't tell you if it is a girl or a boy."

"How could it have blond hair if both Rich and Da have dark hair?" Jacob asked her.

"I don't know. You sure it's Rich's?"

The Doctor gave her an insulted expression, "Hey! Yes, I'm sure. I had blond hair in my first, my fifth, and my sixth regenerations. The color could pick up from there. And Amadak's Mum had dark ginger hair, so stop that, both of you," he teasingly stole the cap off his son's head, ruffled up his hair, which the lad had allowed to grow out again, and allowed the boy to snatch the cap back.

"OK," Carolyn said with a laugh. "I guess it's a good thing that we came as soon as we got the message, considering how far along you are. We stopped over at Lupus Five so Johns could pull the records and make contacts, ended up on CoalSack three to make an exchange of mechanics, because the files you asked for were psychically locked and couldn't leave the messenger's bio-field until delivery. Kovan security, what a pain in the ass, I swear."

"Exactly what does that mean?" Jacob asked.

Jon looked at him, "It means that only the person it's delivered to can open the files without wiping them. And I'm praying that nothing happens to make this already bad situation worse."

"It'll be fine. Johns wouldn't have let her stay up top if we hadn't heard the TARDIS arrive -"

At this the Doctor's head snapped up. He'd been so focused on Romana he'd forgotten about the other TARDIS. The expression he wore was horrified, "That wasn't me arriving. Well it was, but not now-me." Then he looked at Jacob. "Oh _Rassilon_, this is so bad..." Even with Carolyn knelt down in front of him he was on his feet and halfway to the door before either of the others reacted.

"What? Da? What?"Jon was keeping a one handed firm grip on his son's arm, dragging the boy with him. Carolyn hustled to catch up, determined to not let the fellow out of her sight. "Da! Talk to me!" Jacob was not fighting, but rather doing everything he could to keep up with the larger man.

"Romana is here to retrieve something from my second incarnation. If it is the time I remember, Jamie is with me. And the data files end up with him. I've got try and – get his help, I guess. Damn it."

"You mean there are two of you here?" Fry asked from behind him.

"Worse than that. There are two of _Jack_ here. And I have no idea what sort temporal catastrophe might occur if they touch. Which means -" he looked at his son, "- NO touching the other version of me, _Dong Ma_? You've not been born yet, and so touching my other self could cause horrible rifts in reality." Their footsteps rang out in the hallway, although muffled by thin carpeting.

"Yea, I get it, da. Should I go back to Serenity and wait for you?"

"_No,_" Thete was tempted to hug the boy to him. "I don't want the shifting time lines to tear you away from me either." This made the boy shudder and grip the Time Lord's hand tighter. He didn't want that any more than his da did. "On the plus side... with things shifting like they are maybe I can help myself find a way to keep your sire from dying, Jacob. Give you a real childhood."

The boy blinked, "You mean – Jamie, right?" The Doctor nodded. "But what about Rich?"

"I'm not giving up on Amadak, son. There's more than enough room in my heart and soul for both of them. There should be more than enough room in yours too." The Scottish piper would understand, likely with more ease than anyone else realized. In fact it was more than likely that Jamie would have been someone he told before starting the bonding process knowing where it could go and he'd have sought approval before completing even a blocked bond. And he'd missed the man like he missed his home. Perhaps it was because where- and when- ever Jamie had been when they were together, was home. But what to do about Romana?

He knew, in hindsight, what she'd done. Using the matrix to distill other possible parts of her personality, dangerous for even the most rock solid of psyches was downright horrifying when linked back to Morbius' House. A house that Romana's was derived from. It was said that the line between madness and genius was razor thin, with the most brilliant of minds just barely balanced on the edge. If he pushed the wrong way then his reasons for destroying his native society and all they had ever touched would shift from the 'enemy' to stopping a Tyrant of his own making. The universe would still burn. He'd still end up with this massive power. The Daleks would still be around to keep pestering him. He'd still be alone.

So he needed a third option. He needed to save her from her own foolishness. But could he make her listen? That was the problem. Romana could be quite stubborn at times, very sure of herself, prone to thinking she knew it all even when she knew quite little. But she was also very clever, and if he didn't do this just right she'd spot that he was making a new path, exercising a power they were not supposed to use, and toss a wrench into the works to stop him. Lucky for him, Time was shifting about her too, so even if she'd checked all the possible paths before leaving Gallifrey that didn't mean those routes were still valid now. He didn't remember how much he'd taught her about this illegal ability though. He'd need to be quite careful.

Just as the door was opening, William and Book met them at the lift, "I found Eve, in Cryo. Didn't I bet she would skip out on us? I had a feeling she might. But-" the redhead noticed the Doctor was there and cut himself off mid-thought, "- did you get the data file from her?" Jon gave the man a withering expression. For a second Bill looked confused, "No? Then who did she give it to?"

Carolyn slid over to his side, reading the increasing tension in the pregnant man's still too-lean form. She intended on making the marshal slow down before the Doctor gave into the urge to smash the nearest wall with Johns face, "How would he know? The Doctor has been with me waiting for you, Bill." The blond woman put a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else, "Did you check the ghost run that was boarding?"

He kissed her fingers then pulled back from her, "Yes. She's already on and hooked in. The captain said she asked for a cheaper box, not a shielded one because she'd made her drop, OK?"

He was getting tired of standing there holding the doors. He was annoyed at Johns for his stupidity, but on the other hand how was the fellow to know that he was not going to arrive by TARDIS? It hadn't been stated that he was coming on a normal spaceship after all. He pushed his rising feelings of anger down. "Don't worry about it. Just get in the lift," the Doctor ordered them. "I think I know what happened and I need to find the people that might have it."

It was then that Bill finally looked at the kilt clad man and really saw him. What stood out the most was the swell to his belly that the marshal just knew mean he was expecting. This popped up now and then as an odd quirk with certain populations that had a lot of contact with Elementals, but as far as he knew the Doctor didn't have those ties. He was staring, Johns knew, but he couldn't help it. Finally he stepped the small space with him, curiosity getting the better of his self-preservation, "How the hell did you end up pregnant?"

"William," Fry warned. "Don't start." She and Book both stepped into the lift too and the door closed.

"I'm just asking." the redhead said to her before turning back to the Doctor and pelting him with questions, "It's Richie's right? You two did follow through finally?" He didn't wait for the questions to be answered, "That's why you're freaked out that he's gone... He knocked you up and then got caught?"

"Shut. Up," Jon finally growled out at him. "For once, don't work overtime to piss me off. My temper is about at breaking point as it is." Both the kid and the priest tried to calm the pale, almost sickly looking, man down. "I'm _fine_. It's under control."

"Hey, hey... It's cool. Relax, huh?"

Even that annoyed the hell out of him. Just being in the same space with Bill was getting on his nerves. He allowed the calm feeling from Book's silent support and the firm grip from Jacob's hand in his own to steady him. He couldn't afford to go off on William right now because he was so close to being due and the Parasite was sure to take full advantage if he cracked even a little. The elevator doors opened at that point onto the main section of the station, and the Doctor marched out ignoring the marshal as best he could. Somehow he'd forgotten how irritating the man could be. He was not usually moved to violence, but this situation was nothing common. No, it was highly irregular, in almost every way. The sensation of Time trying to shift around him flowed over his skin like slithering snakes, and he was, because of the strained Bond, very much at the breaking point. And that was before he'd gotten into William's presence. At least Carolyn tempered it somewhat.

He scanned the level, looking for signs of – himself – and frowned. He didn't see what he was looking for right off the bat but he did see the two young women that he'd set free to shop here. Rose and Saritha had managed to acquire an alarming number of bags in the short while he'd cut them loose, and in addition to this were heading his way with Ice Planets in both hands. His glower deepened. Rose gave him a cheery expression, handed one of the frozen treats off to Jacob and then asked, "Want one?" He shook his head, "OK. Though it might cool you off. They have 'em with just flavored ice too."

His eyes are still on the bags. Whatever did they find to purchase? And how much did they get? He sure hoped that they steered clear of pink. "What did you do, buy an entire shop?" River fixes him with a mysterious but silly grin, managing, just, to not give into temptation to flirt with him. They have been becoming much closer, as part of her healing requires much more intimacy than either have hinted at to Simon. Usually though, Rose acts as a buffer, and at the moment Rose is flirting, so it's harder to not follow her example.

"Several, actually," the bottle blond teased. The situation makes the redheaded man raise an eyebrow, while Jacob shoots him a look that promises great harm if he dares to open his mouth and say even on smart-ass word about this. Rose catches the boy's eye and smiles at him, which he returns happily. She then focuses back on the Doctor and his two adult friends, "An' who is this?"

"William, Carolyn," the Doctor indicated. "This is Rose Tyler. She's a good friend." They all said their hellos and then he cut in, "Look, I'm in a bit of a hurry here. Saritha, Rose, luv, why don't you show my friends here back to the ship. Book, I'll be along in a moment. I've just got to find myself," he gave them a grin that was happy enough but a ghost of his former brilliance.

Rose handed off her bags to the Shepherd and her ice planet too, managing to convince him that she'll buy another for herself and that he can have that one, "Um... I'm staying with you."

River nodded at this in full agreement, "I will go back. You be careful." Her words were for the three of them. She then joined Book in leading Fry and Johns off to _Serenity_.

With this the Doctor was left with Rose and Jacob. The young lady and lad looked at each other, sharing a curious expression before the elder of the pair ventured to ask, "So – what do _you_ look like?" Jacob, of course, knew, having seen the memories of his da's but Rose didn't know. She'd never met him, not even in the Doctor's head when they were attempting to kill the parasite last. Even though she knew about regeneration, having witnessed the Doctor's panic attacks that he couldn't right now for more than one reason, she'd never thought to pester him about how his other selves looked. Part of her was curious, of course. Part of her was terrified. What if she hated this other version of him? How awful would that be? She didn't think she could cope with it, if it ended up that she disliked his younger self.

"Shortish, dark hair. A bit frumpy, I suppose. Oh rather like an old pre-talkie movie star type - Charlie Chaplin - in a way. Like a 'hobo' I guess," Jon said. "There should be a young fellow in a kilt with me."

"It's really weird that you're talking about another version of you like this," Jacob said.

"Wait... Like black bowl cut hair, over sized frock coat, checkered pants that are just a bit baggy?" Rose grinned at his nod, "I saw you then, up top. Come on," she took the Doctor's other hand and led them to the stairs up. "You know it felt like you, but when I looked around I didn't see your buzzed head so I brushed it off. This happen often?"

"Well – I guess it occurs more often than not, it's not meant to, but with nine of me running about it is bound to happen. In this case though, I blame Romana."

"The blond in the tan jacket? She's still here too."

He nodded, "I have her time ring, and she's not getting it back until I've gotten her help on something. No I'm not telling you, Jacob."

The boy shrugged, "Can't blame me for trying. How do you eat this – thing?" He wiggled the frozen treat which was suspended from a stick and balanced on a bowl shaped cookie. It would make far more sense to just sell the things with a spoon he bet.

"Carefully," Rose replied with a snicker as she lead them through the crowd. Once more, most folks parted for them without noticing that they were doing so. She could hear the buzz in the back of her mind that indicated Jacob and Jon were communicating about something, but since they were touching she figured it was likely a low level brain-buffing or the Doctor trying to reassure himself that the boy wasn't going to disappear on him. She's not too surprised when Jacob blurts out something that has no relevance to their previous conversation at all.

"Siamas is what that'd be in Gaelic, ya?" Jacob asked, '_If I kept it, right?_' Rose did hear the last mental question almost as though the boy feared, strongly, that his identity was going to be ripped away from him.

The Doctor glanced over at his son, "One of the possibilities, yes. Do you really want a name that matches the others?" The boy squeezed his hand. "Let's see what happens, huh? We don't know what Jamie's going to say or do yet. He might have some ideas about that."

"Wait... Jamie McCrimmon is here?" Rose said as she walked with them through the bazaar looking for the dark-haired version she knew she'd seen somewhere nearby, "Your long lost Jamie? How is seeing him again going to impact you?" Her concern flared through their complex weave of bonds and connections, just above the communication level he has with Jacob. She quickly tempered the emotion with a wave of it not being an emergency to keep the others party to the feelings from rushing their direction. "Gah. I still don't have this emotional sharing bit under control. I think I panicked Simon."

The Doctor grinned at her and added his own pulse of his still being just fine to the network, to further settle down Simeon and Inara who were both prone overreacting at times. Although the Companion had gotten to the point that she politely asked if she was needed most times. Unless there was pain involved. "If I can rework things to keep him with me, Rose, I will. It's not for me though. It would be for Jacob." He looked at the boy, "You deserve a better life than the one Romana tossed you into." he got a smile at this and once he's sure that the lad understood his reasoning he said to Rose, "I can't abide by either of the choices she left me with so I'm making a third one."

"But I thought things couldn't be changed," Rose tugged at him once and he ignored it. So she dug in her heels and tugged again until he stopped, "That there'd be awful paradoxes created, and rifts and stuff. Explain to me why this is different than those other situations you taught me and Saritha about." She'd been learning a great deal about things both from Verity and Saritha before the Doctor began even trying to brain-buff her. She knew it was altering her in ways that her mum might go spare about but given the situation, the fact that she was bonded to the TARDIS, the fact that she and Saritha were sharing more mental experiences than anyone but the Doctor and Verity knew about already, made her willing to risk it. Thus she was rather more time-aware than most humans, even more so than most of the Doctor's previous companions, although not as much so as a member of his species. That didn't stop her from trying to understand the differences however, and she really disliked when he wouldn't explain stuff to her properly.

The Doctor looked at her, "There's no time for this now." Her expression set stubbornly. He sighed. He knew this was a battle he'd lose because she was determined to judge if this was safe for herself no matter how much he stated it was. He considered for a moment how the situation felt to him and tried to come up with a way to describe it to her, "OK. Concentrate, Rose." She went from stubborn to intensely focused on his words. Unlike Ace and his Seventh self, he'd come right out and told her what he was after. He needed others to help anchor Time, to share in his task, to ease the strain on his soul. And he only had a few hundred years to do it before he was forced to become part of the fabric of Time as a last ditch effort. She'd agreed to help him, knowing how awesome a responsibility it was going to be and how much it would change her. Like Jamie she accepted this. "Can you feel the sensation of things slithering against your awareness, as though there's cool tendrils shivering against your mind?" Both she and Jacob nodded. "That is Time, shifting. It's in flux around us, and I'm keeping it stable right here and now. I could force it into a crystallized path, locking in everyone into what they've done before. But others have made changes. Yes just like when the eclipse happened and I saved Ali, Jacob. Now normally I wouldn't dare mess with this, but it's a close as I've come yet to the Time Lock on the events of the War. I can't directly change them, but I can influence others to re-examine their choices. Like a different path, but not a paradoxical one. I'm not stepping in at the moment of fate being decided here, but pushing at a point where time is already fluid. I've got to try."

Rose shook her head, "I still don't see the difference. But – I trust you, so I'll help where I can." They carefully took in the space, "That way, I just spotted a flash of his kilt." The blond began tugging the pregnant fellow and his son toward where she saw the other two men. As they cleared the crowd she felt the cold fingers in her own apply slight pressure. She looked up to see that they were being watched by a very alert young man in a predominantly red toned plaid. His blue-green eyes seemed fully locked on Jacob at the moment. One hand reached out an tugged on the dark, faintly patterned, coat covered shoulder. She felt the power between her Doctor and this other one as their eyes met. She and Jacob instinctively stepped in front of their version as though to protect him from himself.

"Remember, Jacob. No touching," he warned as he moved the boy back to his side and slightly behind him.

"Yes, da."

He hated to burden his younger self with this horror, and yet... of them all, this one would understand why he'd done it, no matter the reason. This had been an evil that had to be fought, and sometimes genocide was the only way. He'd tried with the enemy, and he'd faced the Cybermen, there would be many enemies that this particular self would serve as judge and jury to. He was, like his seventh self, one of the few that embraced what he was, doing as he knew he had to do. It was here that he could make his own different choice, revising some minor threads of his life to save some of those he cared for. He'd been mostly unaware as the smaller version of himself and his beloved Jamie cleared the distance. "I'd not expected to see – _myself_ – here. I'm looking for a Time Lady going by the name 'Fred'. Perhaps you could help me find her?" the tramp-like little fellow asked.

At this he grinned, "Might be able to do you one better, there's a great deal going on. Have you by any chance gotten a package that was a psychically locked data storage device?"

"Could have done..." the younger version says, his eyes sweeping up and down and taking on the crafty look that often meant he had plans in plans forming. "I think we could help each other." Jamie was staring at the boy, still, unable to take his eyes off the child, knowing exactly who the boy was, almost by instinct. The kid stared right back at him, looking at him with such an unreadable expression so much like those the Doctor often wore that it was frightening on more than one level. The smaller Doctor looked over at the piper, then at the younger lad and put a hand on his own middle before glancing at his older self's very round state with a question on his face that was not the one he dared to ask, "What say you? Considering I've just left myself in Seville, and I don't know how many lives have passed..."

Rose's Doctor grinned, his brilliant smile that chased away shadows, a sight she'd not seen for months because of Rich being gone, "Oh I remember. Forgive the Jacket, eh? That's been a while for me, and I still can't figure out why I chose it."

The other version laughed, "I never saw the Jacket, but the waistcoat was quite bad enough. So is the kilt your normal choice or -?"

"Comfort. I'm not exactly in a normal state at the moment. You might consider it later."

This gained then a cheery clap and an answering grin, "Yes! Well. I will do. Jamie?"

"Eh?" the piper said as he forced his eyes off his son and onto his Thete.

"What do you think of my wearing a kilt later?"

"Oh... It'd be grand, Doctor. You could wear one now, if you wanted." The little fellow indicated the taller version with a gesture, "Oh! Aye. Um – wow," the piper looked floored for a moment then frowned, "I dinna feel you either, why?"

"Time is in flux, I suspect that the Bonds are being blocked by Verity until we come to an agreement as to what course will be taken," the older, quite pregnant version of the Doctor said. "I'm quite aware of the decisions and altered Bonds forged between the primary Triad. However, those connections have not propagated through the lives I've lived yet." He unbuttoned his cuff and slid the sleeve up his arm to reveal the dragon marking his arm. "However, some things have been appearing for quite some time, as though the decision you made was almost destined to happen."

The younger version hissed, "Is that a bio-data tag? Of all the nerve! How dare they?" He reaches out and catches the pale wrist in his hand to study the mark closer. "Ah, but there's the mark of the Sisterhood -"

In that touch passed a massive amount of information, willing exchange of knowledge about when, where, and what was going on, if nothing specific about the course to be taken. That still was in flux, apt to change because he could make his own decisions here. The younger's triad bond pulsed with the same power that rolled through the older's aura. and the pair of them knew that if they wanted to save Jamie they would need to bend the rules, "Which is rather more important then dwelling on the fact that the tag exists at all, really."

As the older moved his arm away and hid the mark once more the younger sighed, "And 'Fred?'"

"Not going anywhere," Rose says, "You've -" She pointed at her Doctor, "got her Time Ring."

"Splendid," the dark haired Doctor said, "You seem like a very nice young lady, Rose. Have you been with me for long?"

She shrugged, "'bout nineteen months, now." Her phone buzzed. "Oi, that would be my mum. I should take it, huh? It's been a year and a day." Rose smiled at the buzz cut Doctor, seeking approval. He nods to her. "I'll be, like – here." She pulled out her phone, "Um.. should I tell her we're in the States, Jon?"

"Should do."

Rose nods and steps away, "Hi, mum? Oh, it's a bit early here, is all -"

"Jon?"

"It's common, easy to remember," the older one says.

"Plain."

"Well, yes. That too. Folks don't tend to single it out so it's good if you're trying to blend in."

This the younger must concede, "Use it a lot then, have I?"

"Ah... Maybe. I'll tell you what you need to know, what the choices are, let you see for yourself, because I can't tell which threads are the past and which are potential pasts anymore."


End file.
